Butterflies and Hurricanes
by Unicornglitterpants
Summary: Julie had always been a loner and suddenly becoming part of a group does nothing to improve that. Surviving has always been a part of her, but how long until she well and truly breaks? Daryl might be the only one who can stop it.
1. Chapter 1

**All disclaimers that apply to a work of fanfiction apply here. I don't own any of the characters, except for the ones I've created. This'll be AU because it's a fanfiction, so it is therefore clearly not cannon, source material, etc. So, enjoy. And review because I don't think I'll continue it without some form of an audience. So, enjoy and leave some feedback.**

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It was sunny out, humid for certain. Definitely too hot to be walking miles at a time without water. But the last farm house had turned up dry cabinets and drier pipes. She hauled the saddlebag up higher on her shoulder and adjusted her sunglasses as she gnawed on the end of a tuft of dried hay. She stepped up to the asphalt and looked both ways. The cicadas were unusually loud; it wasn't even noon yet. She looked both ways again and listened. She didn't expect to hear the once familiar rumble of a car engine. What she expected to hear was the moaning and shuffling.

But for once it was quiet. The sun was shining and it was quiet. It was a normal day in the country. She stepped out onto the road and started walking, tapping her bare thigh with the broadside of her machete and readjusted her grip on the handle.

Another day of walking. She barely took note of clicking behind her, even when there was a stinging slap against her leg. She looked down and the reddish blur that trotted around her and kept moving, ignoring the stray as it ran circles around her at a leisurely pace. She could barely feed herself. No way was she going to try to feed it, too.

"Walk on, Muttley," she snapped under her breath as she kicked a rock out the road. "Just keep on walking."

The only sound was that of her boots and the clicking of paws. It was eerily quiet. The birds never sang anymore. Cars never drove by and birds never sang. She kicked at another rock and stared straight ahead with a blank expression. The stray at her heels left out a huff and she turned and looked off toward the tree-line at the snapping of twigs and rustling of leaves.

They always looked the same as they stumbled out of nowhere, their eyes blank as their jaws gnashed and they blindly reached for her. But the faces never changed. They were always the same with their grey and rotting skin, their tattered and decayed clothes. Right down to the same aimless staggering existence, they were all the same.

She turned back around to stare at the road. The key was to keep walking. You kept going and you only stopped when you had to. Even after several steps all she could hear was the groaning and moaning of a single solitary one of them. She turned back around and stared at it as it continued to shamble about like a drunken sailor. Even from several yards away it was reaching for in desperation. It obviously hadn't eaten in a long time. The dead outnumbered the living now.

Finally, she stopped and turned to look at it. One lone Roamer. She looked left and right, beating her machete against her thigh with a bit more force. She tapped her foot. "Can't just leave it like that," she muttered to herself. She sighed out her nose and then spit out the hay she was still chewing on. She twirled the handle of the machete in her hand with practiced ease as she drew herself up. "Well. Time to do to work," she said in resignation and stepped forward to meet her undead opponent.

The sun was shining and it was quiet. It was a normal day in the country.

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**The Walking Dead: Butterflies and Hurricanes**

"Look here, Muttley," she said as she sat back, leaning against the tree while she cleaned her machete. "Just 'cause I ain't run you off yet don't mean I ain't been thinkin' bout it." She watched the dog in irritation as it sat a few feet off, paying her no mind. Instead, it was glancing off toward the tree-line. She wiped some of the Roamer blood off her arms and scowled down at her chest. "I don't even think Mike Rowe would do this. Probably dead already anyway."

She pushed off the tree and retied her hair as half of her messy bun had come undone. It had only taken a second to get rid of her attacker, but it was never easy physically. When she looked back up, the dog had lowered its head and backed up with its tail between its legs. It wasn't growling. She whipped around and backed up toward the dog. Now that she was less focused on her clean up, she felt it. There was a certain stillness that came over when they approached en masse. Like a deadly freeze ready swallow the world in death. She couldn't hear them but she couldn't hear the cicadas either and that wasn't good.

"So, I may be willing to negotiate," She half-whispered to herself as she continued to back up. She wasn't sure how far off they were, but decided to err on the side of caution and took of at a healthy sprint, barely aware of her four-legged companion loping along beside her.

She stopped when her companion slowed to a trot and took in several deep breaths and then started walking again. She wasn't big on talking anymore. Wasn't anyone to talk to. And the people she had run across hadn't really want to say much more to her than it took to tell her to hand over her supplies. And she'd never been big on talking to herself unless it was internal and those conversations were always direct and to the point.

She definitely wasn't about to start up a running monologue for a dog, that was for damn sure. Instead, she continued to stare down the length of road before her, occasionally glancing behind her to make sure nothing had come up behind them. The dog didn't seem to mind the silence and she wouldn't have cared even if she had. Eventually, she stopped and looked up. The sun was beginning to hang low in the sky. She needed to find some place to make camp. Her usual up a tree routine wouldn't suit with the dog with her. She turned around in a circle a bit before remembering the gravel road she'd passed not ten minutes beforehand. It was worth a shot. She started back that way. It was a long leisurely walk. With the canine beside her, there was no need for her to be quite as alert as usual.

There were open fields in on either side of them, the gravel road was lined with fencing and not far off was the burnt out shell of a barn. She stopped and scanned her surroundings. Then she started down the rest of the way toward the farmhouse. It seemed like it had been a nice farm once. As she neared it, she noted that there were no vehicles save for the scorched RV remains next to the barn. She ascended the porch slowly and rapped on the front door then waited. Nothing. She went through her usual routine of checking each room, only barely aware of the dog as he also wandered through the house doing his own inspection.

Satisfied that the premises was Roamer-free, she began to block off the exits and pulled all the curtains. Then, she began the slow process of meticulously going over the house for any supplies that could come in use. There was a wealth of canned goods. She found a couple flashlights, but no ammo. There was a half full tube of toothpaste and another almost full tube of Neosporin and a box with several Band-Aids in an upstairs bathroom with a shattered mirror.

And then it was time for sleep. She collapsed on the bed, passing out almost instantly. She jerked away a couple hours later. It was always like that when she woke up. Naps-and that was all she afforded herself-were few and far between. She'd sleep again in an hour or so. It was time to find new clothes. She tried on several tops. Some were a little baggy, which wasn't ideal. It gave the Roamers something to grab onto when fighting and that was something you wanted to avoid. She pulled out a few tops and managed to find a few pairs of tights and a mini sewing kit in the back of a drawer in the hallway upstairs.

She hung a heavy quilt over the living room window and lit a lantern after it was dark out then spent a couple hours sewing patches onto the holes in the one pair of jeans she carried with her. The dog was sprawled out on the floor at her feet. Once she done, she shimmied out of her shorts and pulled on the jeans. The fabric she'd used to patch the jeans hadn't been very thick and it wouldn't provide much warmth when winter arrived, but it was better than nothing.

She did another once over of the farmhouse and considered, not for the first time, staying on through the winter. She could easily board up the windows with whatever wood hadn't completely burned out in the barn fire. She had already gathered up the Roamer bodies that littered the property and burned them, while she kept watch. She occupied the time trying to train the dog that constantly followed her. It was obvious that he had been craving companionship and she wouldn't deny him of that until he became a liability.

He followed her when she went hunting and he'd shown extreme promise at tracking and had managed to help her pin down a couple rabbits. But she'd never been very adept at skinning and she'd managed to butcher both jobs. The dog, which was a purebred bloodhound as best she could tell, ate well that night. She ate a can of pears and another of creamed corn.

The day she finally decided to board up the house was the day she saw another one of the living. She'd taken the dog out to explore the woods more thoroughly and they'd just reached the edge, coming up on the road leading into the farmhouse when she'd heard the distinct rumble of a truck. She ducked behind a tree and cursed to herself. While she'd taken care to hide the bulk of her supplies, she had forgone hiding most of the food and a couple of handguns. Those no longer belonged to her. Once she could no longer hear the truck, she backed away into the woods and circle around the farm to the back of the property. She'd marked all the trees surrounding the great oak and was able to find it in minutes. She climbed up in it with ease and settled back in the tree, squinting into the distance.

It was a lot of men. "Time to go," she sighed as she threw her saddle bag out of the tree, followed by the rucksack and hopped down. She glanced back at the farm once and sighed. It had been a nice place. But this was a much needed wake up call. She couldn't stay in one place for too long and this was evidence enough. It was sheer luck that she had gone out so early. It was time to get moving and stay moving.

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The dog had taken off. It had taken him awhile to figure out she wasn't coming with him anytime soon. They weren't done with her yet. But there he was crouched down low in some bushes not far off. Pacing back and forth, paws sending leaves up into the air in his frantic state. But it was okay. She wanted him to get away. He was a good dog. The only companion she'd ever had who'd truly looked out for her as well as she'd looked out for him. The look in his eyes had hurt her more than what was being done to her at the time. He'd looked helpless, lost all over again. Just as he had when she'd seen him wandering around in the woods.

She'd stopped trying to fight them off after the third one. It didn't hurt anymore. She was too numb and the concussion she was working on was helping. She couldn't even really hear their voices anymore. Or even the thump of her head as it bounced off the ground in a disjointed rhythm.

It was black when she opened her eyes. There was a fire crackling. And their bodies were laid out around the fire, which was much too big. There was shuffling nearby. Much too close. They'd made a fatal mistake. They'd played with her so long they exhausted themselves. The one closest to her was laid out with her machete barely clasped in his hand. "Some guard you are, you stupid fuck," she thought as she army crawled toward the weapon. Everything was screaming inside her. She managed to grasp the machete with stiff finger as she dragged herself toward the unconscious guard. She plunged the sharp end of her weapon into his neck, straight through his windpipe. The moaning was audible now. She fumbled to her feet and watched her breath crystalize in the cold atmosphere surrounding her. And then she moved on to the next man, repeating her actions five more times. The last one she left for the roamers to finish off. He had been the first. He would be the one to scream. And then she staggered in the opposite direction of the moaning. And she stopped only when she heard the first scream. Just long enough to catch her breath and give her aching bones a rest and then it was back to staggering. She didn't even notice when she found the road. She kept staggering.

Sometimes, there would be something behind her, shuffling behind her and then passed her. And she wondered vaguely if it meant she had died. If she were one of them. If this were her new existence. One of the herd. There had been blood everywhere. They'd cut on her and bled her a bit to drain some of the fight out of her. That had been the easiest part. Maybe they'd bled her too much.

They flowed like an unstable river after her before they slowly ebbed into a trickle and she was left with only a handful. "I must be one of them," she thought as they blundered past in slow motion.

That was the blur that passed caught her off guard as it kicked up the dead leaved littering the asphalt. How could she have missed the blare of the engine? It grated on her deadened senses, made her ears ring and her equilibrium tilt further off its axis. And for the first time in what seemed like years, she managed to focus. There in the middle of the road was a motorcycle. And astride it, sat a man. The ringing in her ears turned to cruel, taunting laughter as she followed his line of sight. It was pinned to the machete in her hand, the small rucksack on her back. He killed the engine and flicked down the kickstand in one fluid motion as he continued to watch her and she froze. The laughing was louder as it echoed off the inside of her skull. It was so distracting she nearly missed the exact moment he froze and a terrifying realization finally surfaced in both their minds. She was human.

In she watched with sharp, pained breaths as his eyes traveled the length of her. It caused her to stumble to her left and off the road. She broke for the trees, leaving the remnants of the heard behind her and she ran blindly for the first time. There was no sprinting. There was only fear as it drove her to run until the cold air filled her lungs and froze them in agony just at the moment her legs gave out and she collapsed. She pulled herself up to the foot of a tree and twisted around to lean up against the trunk and reached for her rucksack. She pulled out the revolver and wiped at her forehead with a shaky hand. And she resigned herself to waiting. The revolver was too heavy to lift just now. She couldn't even turn her head towards the sound of rustling leaves to her right. "Side ambush, you would play dirty," she thought hazily as she tried desperately to inhale enough oxygen to meet her body's requirements.

And then there was flurry of reddish brown fur and whining. And then was crying. "You came back," she sobbed, laughing as she did, "You came back for me!"

The whining increased when she reached out for him and the dog settled down next to her. "You came back for me," she repeated. And she couldn't stop crying. She was hysterical until she wasn't. Until even her tears were finally dried up and her body was too broken to continue working. "I didn't expect it to last this long."

She looked down at her lap as she dropped a hand on the hound's head and her gaze travelled down to the tops of her unbuttoned shorts to stop at her inner thighs, crusted in a thick coat of dried blood.

"This," she wheezed. She was just so tired. "It's a good day to die." And the world went dark.


	2. Chapter 2

**Don't own anything but the characters I've created. Reviews are appreciated. Please read and enjoy.**

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"Heeey there," someone called tauntingly as they tapped against her cheek roughly. Their voice sounded distorted and far away, "Wake up, Girlie. Rise and shine."

She opened her bleary eyes to see a familiar head of long, light brown hair. The face was fuzzy, but it was definitely her sister. "What the...Rachel? Ain't you dead yet," she wheezed, groaning as her focus worsened and the world began to spin.

"The fuck you on about," her sister snapped. There was something about her voice that was just off. She coughed and rolled away, drawing herself up onto her hands and knees in preparation for standing up.

"You, dead, you stupid whore. Can't even," she fell back over, "can't even let me die in fucking peace. You always gotta come back around and fuck everything up don't you? Just fuckin-" she panted. It was so hot out. It felt like the world was being scorched by the sun. "just get the fuck out of here."

"You really mean that little girl? You really want me to leave you out here for them fuckers to munch on," her sister weedled, letting out a laugh. "Look at you. Smell like one of 'em. You are one tore up bitch. Who'd you piss off?"

"Didn't do shit," she spat. She tried to raise a hand to wipe at the sweat that was burning her eyes, but it was too much work. "Was minding my own business. Stopped to rest for a couple minutes. Sonofabitch, think they mighta shot me. I woke up an' he's on top of me an," she continued to try to breathe. It was getting hard trying to breathe and talk. She let out a bitter laugh. "Cut on me when I wouldn't quit fightin' him."

Her sister stared down at her then. She didn't look so mocking anymore. "How many of 'em?"

"Six," she questioned herself. "I stabbed all of 'em but one. In...the throat. Left him for..._them_, started walking," she laughed, "sit down to die and of course the biggest life-ruining bitch of a sister in existence finds me. I just wanted to die. It's a good day for it."

"Think maybe tomorrow is better," her sister said in a serious voice, "you really gonna just roll over an' die? Get this far just to try and-"

"I had a good run."

"Yeah, sure looks like it," Rachel snorted. And then she was moving as she stared up at her sister through blurry eyes. "It's a good day. Just let me have this, Rachel. You stupid-you owe me this much." She slammed back into the ground and her body froze in agony as the wind was knocked from her burning lungs.

"I don't owe you shit, you dumb cunt." There was something really off about that voice. "You would say that." She snarled then. "I was hopin' you got eaten by now, you fuckin' stupid whore." She clawed at the ground as she tried to put distance between herself and her sister. "Can't fuckin' believe I'm related to you. Fuckin' worst luck ever."

"You sure don't like me much do you," her sister asked in amusement. Her voice. It was too raspy and too deep. But she was staring down at her with those mocking brown eyes of hers. Those big stupid doe eyes. How she hated those fucking eyes. "Just leave, I'm done, you dipshit. Finally get all your brains screwed out, don't understand English no more?"

Her sister cackled madly and reached down toward her, eye brimming with mirth.

The next time she opened her eyes, she was staring up at a ceiling, only half aware of the voices nearby. _The afterlife sure is weird_, she thought wryly, and then she inhaled. _I'm not dead_. She tried to sit up and a wave of nausea overtook her and it was dark again.

The next time she came to, she was able to sit up. Everything ached worse than anything she'd ever felt. The second her eyes were opened and she began struggling to move into sitting position, a boisterous voice and called out. "Well, look at here. Peaches is wide awake."

Her back slammed into the wall her bed was pushed up against as she scrambled up against the corner when the panic of realizing a man was in the room reached her. He held his hands from his place in the chair next to her bed.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Girlie," he tried to soothe in the least comforting tone of voice ever. His voice was annoyingly familiar. "Now, I know what you're thinkin', but ol' Merle don't play like that. Naw, That ain't something you need to be worrying that pretty little head o' yers 'bout."

Still breathing heavily she eyed him in suspicion. It wasn't hard to tell no matter the subject, this guy always had an angle. Finally convinced he wasn't going to attack her anytime soon, she looked and realized she was wearing a hospital gown and had an IV stuck in her arm. "A hospital," she thought in confusion.

"You had that thing in you for weeks now," he said, clasping his hands behind his hands behind his head. "I been sittin' here playing nurse Nancy with you 'till you came 'round. What I get for goin' outta my way ta help someone else." He muttered the last part to himself.

"Boss man saw what you did to that camp an' he decided it was best for me to keep an eye you," he sighed. "He don't quite trust little girls that manage to get the drop on six grown men no matter how they done to wrong'er." He stare at her seriously and she stared right back. He wasn't quite staring like she was a caged animal, but he seemed to be looking for something, for sure. She raised an eyebrow finally and after a moment he broke into a grin. "Yeah, I think it was a brilliant idea to bring you back. You talked awful big out there for such an itty bitty thing, you know that?" He slapped his leg and let out a chuckle before adding softly. "Ain't never seen someone fight that hard."

He stood, patted her leg without even batting an eye at the way she jumped at his touch, "That run o'yers ain't over yet, Peaches."

He came back several minutes later with food and a bottle of water. The can of cream of mushroom soup had never looked so delectable to her. There were some crackers with it. She dug in without fuss, ignoring Merle as he sat down. He didn't say anything. Just and she finally looked up, pausing for a moment as it registered in her mind what exactly he was doing to occupy his time. He was sharpening a knife that was attached to a metal covering that covered the stub where he right hand had once been.

_So, I'm in a hospital full of pirates_, she mused silently, _Welcome to bizarro world._ She watched in idle fascination. _I wonder if any of them has an eyepatch. He looks like he's stolen plenty of shit in his lifetime._

Once she was finished, she set the bowl aside and leaned back against her pillows watching as he continued to ignore her. Soon she was just as absorbed he was and when he finally turned to her, she jumped. "Got chained to a roof an' lef'fer dead. He told her. Had ta cut it off." He held it up and studied the blade from all angles. "Imma fighter, too, Peaches."

"You gotta name," he asked eventually, "name to go with that pretty face of yours?"

They stared at one another and Merle took the hint. "Boss man ain't gonna like you keepin' your mouth shut-no matter what it was makes you wanna keep it shut."

Something sank inside her. She had a feeling that getting on the leader's side was not something you did. Ever.

He gave her an arrogant smirk. "Probably best if you follow ol' Merle's lead from now on. Yessir, my word around here is good as gold now. Yeah Ol' Merle Dixion has finally made somethin' of himself."

Merle Dixon. It fit him. She watched him as he pulled out a rag and began to polish the knife. And she sat there and watched. It became a routine for the next four days. He would come in and talk while she at and then sat and stared at him mutely. She didn't want to talk. She didn't want him to know her. She was done with people. She'd been done with people years ago. Recent events had only confirmed that her choice to avoid them at all costs had been the right one.

Merle Dixon either didn't notice or didn't care. Or maybe he just liked the sound of his own voice, which seemed the most likely because he never stopped talking to her. About everything and nothing. She knew more about the goings on of the makeshift town-Woodbury it was called-than necessary and she didn't care one bit. She didn't want to be there.

He was in the middle of some story about a drunken escaped that she was far more interested in than she was willing to admit when the door to her room opened and a very tall man entered the room. There was something about him that set off alarms in her head. This man was dangerous. She really didn't want to be in Woodbury anymore. She chanced a glance at Merle. He was studying her intently and it looked like he didn't like what he saw just then.

"Peaches," he said, giving off a smile that belied his tense emotions, "this here, is the boss man, the Governor."

"It's nice meeting you," he said, letting it hang in the air, waiting for an answer. She pulled back further into herself. She did not want this man ever knowing her name. Ever even hearing her voice. This was not a man she wanted to know her. Because whatever was in him, was no longer human. She could see that by the tight features on his face, barely restraining whatever darkness in there.

"She ain't talkin'," Merle answered for her. He kept his eyes trained on his knife, polishing without pause. But she could see his was just as alert as she was. "Think they really did a number on'er. She ain't gonna be talkin' soon."

She drew her legs up to her chest and couldn't stop from flinching under his gaze. She instead focused on the long gashes covering her arms. They were long angry lines, puckered with the beginnings of scar tissue. One of them was still sore with infection. The nurse had theorized that the combination of dried blood and oozing infection had made for a smell so potent and unpleasant that the biters, as the people of Woodbury called them, had considered her one of them and passed on. They had tracked a herd through the same woods they'd found her in. It hadn't taken Merle long enough to figure out that she'd been down too long to be bitten.

But he should have left her there. She should have died. It hadn't been her sister who had gotten her moving. It had been Merle. And there he was, looking out for her again. She didn't get it. Merle Dixon didn't strike her as the type who stuck his neck out for anybody but Merle Dixon. She was having trouble figuring out his angle thus far.

She picked at the scabbing on her least healed cut and ignored them as they spoke. The less she knew, the better. She picked at a pulled thread in the wool blanket as she continued to scratched at her wounds.

"She ain't gonna attack nobody, ain't no bigger'n newborn calf," Merle argued, shrugging, "we can't just keep her locked up."

"We can't let her out either."

"I'll stay with'er, she won't leave my sight," he said," anything she tries to pull falls on me! I'll take the heat for it. I brought 'er back didn't I? Seems only right."

She jerked her head up to look at him. He wasn't just sticking his neck out for her, he was offering to lay himself directly on the chopping block for her. She looked over him. Merle's jaw clenched and he refused to look at her. She could feel the Governor's eyes on her. He was studying her the way one would study a bug. She could see as he turned to leave out of the corner of her eye closely followed by Merle. And she finally exhaled.

It always struck her that no matter how hard she tried, it seemed that someone else was always in control of her life. She didn't see Merle for another week. Her arm was less itchy, there was no swelling and there was no more angry red. Just angry scar tissue and large scabs still healing. Most of the stitches had been removed. Her legs still were still sore and her muscles still felt stiff.

Merle was gone for another three days and she felt oddly alone. She frowned at the wool blanket and stared up at the ceiling. Something soft and fuzzy landed on her face, making her jump slightly at the unexpected contact.

"Get yer skinny ass up, Princess, it's time to get up," a gruff voice called, "put that on, s'cold out. And put some damn pants on. No reason in fuckin' hell fer you to be runnin' around in 'dukes like a goddamn school who's head's full of unicorns and butterflies 'er whatever shit it is you birds think of!"

She watched him with an expression both bewildered and irritated. Merle Dixon was in quite the snit and she had no idea what she'd done-or what someone else had done- to piss him of so royally. She scowled as he stared at her. "Oh, I'm sorry, did I interrupt your beauty sleep?"

She jumped off the bed as she pulled the thick winter coat on and they continued their glaring match as she pulled on the pair of pants lying over the chair by her bed. Merle huffed impatiently when she sat down the chair, never breaking eye contact as she slowly pulled on her socks and then her boots, purposely baiting him.

"Get your ass in gear, you dumb bitch, I ain't got all day," he finally snapped, his eyes narrowed. She gave a good stamp in her boots and tromped after him, ignoring how the jarring motion made her joints ache. She contented herself to glaring at the back of Merle's head. He seemed completely oblivious. He shoved open a door and she followed him out onto the sidewalk and blinked.

There were no trashed cars, no dead bodies, no litter and abandoned possessions strewn about the street. The only thing covering the ground was a thin layer of snow. How long had she been here?

"This here's Woodbury," Merle said, his face stern, "Boss man, says you're my problem. So let's get some things straight. You fuck up, I kill you. You don't want me killin' you."

She felt herself begin to grow agitated and tapped at her thigh with her fingers, painfully aware of the absence of her machete. Merle glanced down, eying the nervous tic with an unreadable expression. He turned and began walking and she followed silently behind him, her ears filled with the sound of snow crunching beneath her boots. The frigid air felt good against her skin. She ignored the people who openly gawked at her and greeted Merle with politely questioning nods of their heads. Without thinking she jogged up beside him. They both tensed at the closeness but refused to acknowledge it.

She focused on the large wall ahead, watching as several men in army fatigues with automatics patrolled the wall. She studied each man carefully. She hadn't seen any military personnel in quite a while. But these men weren't military, which begged the question, where did they get all their fancy gear? She smirked to herself then. "They really are pirates.

"Wall stretches around a four block radius," Merle said, his loud voice cutting through her thoughts, "nothing gets in and nothing gets out without our sayso. That gate is the only exit and entrance point. Most of the buildings have been turned inna housing-"

"Lookie here, boys," one of the men hooted. She bristled at the interruption and scowled at the men guarding the gat. Merle looked annoyed at the interruption. The interloper didn't seem at all fazed. He was grinning at her. She didn't like that. She leveled him with a bored look and subtly shift her weight to her left foot, leaning closer toward Merle. "Sleeping Beauty finally woke up." He was chewing on his gum in the most obnoxious fashion possible. "You give her a little kiss, Merle?"

She felt her skin begin to heat with anger. She heard Merle exhale through his nose long and hard. "This here fuckwad is Martinez. _He_ can't kill six men unless he's got a gun in hands." She heard herself snort and crossed her arms as she watched the arrogant Latino's smirk drop when he scowled at Merle. Unable to find a retort, he turned and settled for storming off.

Merle chuckled to himself and they walked over to the other side of the street, Merle pointing out certain buildings of interest. She only half-listened. She was trying to figure out how to shake him mostly. She needed to get out of Woodbury. She became wary when Merle led her into what appeared to be an apartment building and slowed her pace to put some distance between the two of them. Merle was an asshole, but she wasn't sure how much of an asshole he was.

He brought her up to the second floor and stopped, opening one of the doors. He grabbed her arm and shoved her in before she even had time to register that he'd touched her at all. She tried to pull her arm out of his grip and began thrashing in panic.

"Calm down, you psycho bitch," he howled, shaking her roughly. She was having none of it. She fought harder and Merle shook her harder, dragging her down a narrow hallway. Hyperventilating she began clawing at his fingers as she shook her head wildly back and forth, silently begging him not to hurt her. She couldn't survive it again. Not again. He kicked open the door to a room at the end of the hall and practically hurled her away from him. She stumbled and fell backward on a springy twin bed with a hand me down quilt. It smelled musty in there.

"This here's your room," he said gruffly, "bathroom's to yer left." And then he slammed the door. She sat frozen in place for the better part of an hour as her brain tried to process what had just happened to her. Her arm hurt where he'd grabbed her. Eventually, she looked around the room and realized there was a chair in one corner filled with clothes, her small pack was lying atop the pile. She curled up on the foot of the bed and stared at it, wondering just how in the hell she was supposed to get the hell out of there.

She watched as the shadows slid across the room slowly until it was completely dark. She flinched and her heart began to drum in her chest as the front door to the apartment burst open, and heavy footsteps scraped against the hardwood floor. She clutched at the quilt until her knuckles turned white and waited. She could hear the footsteps slowly approach the door and come to halt. She froze mid-inhale and waited. She could see the clear shadow his booted feet left under the door and waited. There was a sudden clatter on the floor in front of the door and the sound of something metal clanking against glass followed by a smack and muffled thump as several things came in contact with the floor. The boots stomped away much angrier than before and she could hear angry muttering follow the pounding. Merle.

She refused to move a muscle, instead she kept her ears trained every single minute sound. There was a metallic scraping sound, more stomping, which sounded a bit like pacing, the slamming of a cabinet. A mug of some kind of drink being slammed on a counter. There was an unbearably long stretch of silence and then some of the loudest snoring she had ever encountered. Slowly, she slid off the bed to crouch against the foot board and leaned down to look under the door. The space was too small to see much other than the planks of wood flooring and she slid her hand up to the door knob and then slowly turned it. She paused when the door clicked open and peered out through the small crack. There was a plate of food. Rice, vegetables. It smelled great. She looked to the left of it and what she saw made her pull the door further open in surprise. There was a thick coloring book and with a pack of crayons sitting atop of it. She didn't know whether to be amused or outraged.

_Does he think I'm _five, she wondered indignantly. Finally studying the cover, she nonchalantly slid it inside the room after her dinner plate._ I do like Princess Jasmine_. She had managed to color four pictures, poring all her concentration into her coloring before she finally decided to come out of her room. The apartment was small. The main area of the apartment was open and consisted of a kitchen and a connected living room. It was nice, cleaner than expected. She opened several kitchen cabinets and stared, leaning back against the kitchen.

That's a lot of liquor bottles, she thought to herself. She tried not to smile at the boxes of shells laying next to a half-drunk bottle of whiskey. Bullets and whiskey, she thought wryly. Merle may have been an obnoxious asshole, but he was definitely an unusual one. Especially when another cabinet yielded two boxes of power bars, Gatorade juice boxes, and a giant plastic container of jerky. She huffed out a laugh when she opened the refrigerator and found another two bottles of whiskey.

She brought the coloring book and the crayons back into the living room and sat down on the couch while she arranged her supplies on the coffee table. Drawing one of her legs up to her chest, she pulled the coffee table up to her and started coloring in earnest. The natural light made the room warmer. Without any thought to her actions, she grabbed the ratty old sweatshirt that was at the other end of the couch and pulled it over her head and pulled the blanket that had been folded under it across her lap, pulling it up under her feet and went back to her coloring.

The door kicked open suddenly and she looked up then. Merle was standing in the doorway. They blinked at each other for a long while and she drew her other leg up to her chest instinctively. Merle scowled at her and stomped into the kitchen. She followed his movements with wide eyes, watching as he slung a holstered gun in one cabinet and pulled out the half drunk bottle from another while he shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it in her direction, making her jump when it landed on the other end of the couch. Merle rolled his eyes at her and shook his head. She scowled right back and returned to her coloring, intent on ignoring him for the rest of the day.

She glared further when he beaned her in the head with a granola bar and caught the juice box he hurled directly after it with little finesse. _This is why I stay by myself. The Apocalypse comes and the only people left are assholes_. She returned to her coloring and sucked from her juice box with sulkily. That includes you, shit-for-brains.

Merle threw himself on to the love seat adjacent to her without a word and began unloading his gear. She finally looked up and watched as he pulled out his gun and checked it over. She would have been lying if she'd said she didn't tense up a little at the sight of a man with a weapon in such close proximity.

"All that shit by the door is yers," he muttered in a grumpy voice, "bunch a the bleeding-heart nosy as fuck old bitties in town decided you needed clothes an' whatever other girlie things it is you pain in the ass women are always fawnin' over."

She blinked as he continued to complain. It occurred to her then that Merle Dixon did not think highly of women-not that he thought particularly highly of anyone-but women he obviously thought the least of in general. She was not surprised except that she was beginning to realize it was because Merle was inexperienced when it came to dealing with them on a level above the basest of necessity. Sex, obviously he got. She'd heard him joking with some of the soldier-wannabes out by the gate. Whether or not he'd ever attended a sex-ed class in grade school she didn't know, but he obviously knew he was supposed to stick tab in slot B.

But he didn't do feelings. Or talking. Anything that involved sharing on a level above "I'm hungry" or "I'm horny" was a level beyond his comprehension and he intended to keep it that way. Suddenly, Merle disinterest in her made him her new favorite person. He was the ideal companion. She annoyed him and he wanted nothing to do with her. There was no threat. He was the perfect person to have around. No talking, no bonding, no liabilities.

She watched him a bit longer and knew her decision was final. He stopped fiddling with his toys when she said, "My name's Julie."


	3. Chapter 3

**Only the original characters are mine. Read and review. Please. Reviews let me know I'm doing something right or wrong.**

* * *

Martinez and Shumpert were staring at her again like she was some rare animal at the Atlanta Zoo that had recently been discovered and was bizarre as hell. At one point in time, she would have chewed their heads off, beaten them black and blue verbally, but not now. She wasn't big on talking. Instead, she continued to sit in her chair, painting her toe nails in idle boredom, flexing her toes every now and then to admire the way they sparkled in the light of the hallway. It was a nice color.

Satisfied with the new paint job, she capped the polish bottle and slung her legs over the arm of the chair and went back to staring at the door in front of her. He'd been in there with those two women for a really long time. She didn't like that. Especially the blonde woman. She rubbed Julie the wrong way. Really and truly pissed her off if she was honest. She didn't like how she acted as if anything she said wasn't complete bullshit and she had the answer to every problem in history.

She twirled her dark blond hair around her forefinger and drifted off deep in thought. She missed her dog. Not as much as she missed a good pair of high heels. But it still turned her stomach to think something had happened to him after she'd passed out against that tree trunk. Merle said he hadn't seen any paw prints after she'd whined for him to answer her questions for a good twenty minutes. He'd started yelling in outrage at her inability to leave him alone. He'd stormed off when her eyes started watering after he finally answered her. That was when he'd come back with the nail polish. He'd chucked it right at her head and yelled for her to shut mouth before he shut it for her with a bullet between her eyes.

She wondered if Merle even realized he was a bit soft on her. She figured he felt special because he was the only one she talked to. He hadn't told anyone she was talking yet. And secretly, she knew he wouldn't. _Yeah, it makes him feel special_, she decided just as the door opened. The blonde lady was staring at her the same way Martinez and Shumpert stare at her.

Merle rolled his eyes at the sight of her and, as usual, started yelling at her. "God damn it, you dumbass! What'd I tell you 'bout wandering around with yer fuckin' boots off?! Fucking crazy ass bitch."

Julie smirked up at him as if she knew some big secret that the rest of them didn't know and made Merle scowl further. He was practically growling at her and she couldn't help but outright grin at him. _Ooh, he is in a right fine snit_, she thought gleefully.

"Git yer ass up, we're goin' home," he muttered darkly and her satisfaction at properly pissing him off evaporated. He never mentioned the fact that they lived together in public if he could help it. It made him uncomfortable. Something was wrong.

She ignored the shocked and then outraged look on the blonde's face. The dark-skinned woman next to her merely lifted an eyebrow. Julie settled for ignoring both of them in favor of trotting after Merle, peering up at him, conveying her concern with her eyes. When he continued to ignore her, she slowed her pace and followed sedately. Merle wasn't exactly a master at ignoring things that pissed him off. This was not good.

It always amazed her how the people of Woodbury fell over themselves to greet Merle. Of course, he reveled in the attention. But not today. Today, nobody existed as he stormed back towards home. There was a sudden weight sitting on her chest at the notion that things were taking a drastic turn for the worse.

Julie spent every waking moment with Merle Dixon. He was her keeper at Woodbury. He'd taken the burden on willingly and she still wasn't quite sure what it was that had made someone as selfish and unfeeling as Merle Fuck-Everyone-Else Dixon take her in and look after her like she was his own flesh and blood. She knew he had an angle, but she couldn't figure it out. It was still taking her forever to figure out half the messed up crap that went through his head.

He tore through the apartment like a tornado and Julie didn't know how long she had until she would snap. Merle was a pig and it was an uphill battle trying to keep the place from looking like an utter pig sty. He yelled at and threatened her every time she tried to pick up after him, convinced she was going through his belongings.

She groaned as she picked up and righted the coffee table. She listened as he slammed the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and then slammed the door as he stomped back into the living room. Julie was already seated on the couch, coloring. It was her favorite way to distance herself from these types of emotional displays and it made Merle feel as though she wasn't there, which helped him a great deal as well.

Finally, after several minutes of pacing like an angry rhino, he collapsed in his armchair and started sharpening his pirate shank, as Julie thought of it. She was digging around in the couch cushions for "Purple Mountain's Majesty" purple when he said in a gruff voice, "'Member when I told ya 'bout my baby brother?"

She sat up instantly, pinning him with a frustrated look. "You never told me you have a brother."

"Jus' found out he ain't dead," he said, choosing to ignore the ire in her voice. She sat back on her haunches. "You wanna go lookin' for him?"

He looked up at her. "Already worked it out with the Governor."

She sighed out her nose, conveying her annoyance without words and flopped back onto the couch. Merle studied her, his face a mask of granite and she stared off toward the door to the apartment. She didn't understand why he ever told her anything important like this. _It's always after he's discussed it with someone else. Like I'm a fucking afterthought_, she pouted internally. _How come he can't tell me this shit before anyone else?!_ Julie propped her feet up on the coffee table and glared back over at him.

"So what's the point in this little heart to heart then," she bit out, "you want me to come over there and cuddle you until you feel better or something?"

Merle just glared down at the knife in his hand and Julie stood up then. "Are we done here?"

"If I find him," Merle added, stopping her. "we might take off."

"So you're saying you'd just leave me here," she replied finally, "what the fuck, Dixon? How many times have I told you I don't wanna be here? How many times have I brought up leaving and now you're practically jumping at the chance to bail on this shithole once your fucking brother-who never came looking for you, _I'm sure_-suddenly pops back up on the radar? And I'm supposed to be okay with that?"

Merle didn't respond and she decided it was high time she laid into him. "You know, I get that I'm a fucking pain in the ass to deal with, but having to spend all my time with you isn't exactly a fucking joy either, you know. If you and that fucking psychopath had just let me be on my way I'd be long gone and not having to deal with the astounding amount of bullshit you all pile on top of each other." It was getting really hard for her to keep from screeching. "Fuck you, Merle."

* * *

Andrea didn't understand it. No matter how many times it was explained to her that Merle had saved that girl from dying alone in the woods, she still couldn't understand how in the hell someone could suffer so badly from hero-worship over a complete bastard like Merle Dixon.

She looked to be right out of her teens at the least and it would have been downright disturbing to see the way her face lit up whenever she saw Merle if it weren't for the way things were in the world now. It was still a little too much for her. Merle remained completely oblivious and regarded her as he regarded everyone-as a nuisance he was made to suffer.

That is until she caught them standing off to the side near a group of people. Merle was saying something to her quietly, both their faces solemn and the girl reached over and put her hand on his forearm for a second. And he didn't pull away. The girl had tensed up and pulled away as quickly as she gone to touch him and backed up a step. Merle's face had gone blank then as he'd watched her glare at the ground, clutching her arms to her chest. Then she'd stalked away and he'd watched her go as his jaw tensed up and he balled his hand into a fist. Then it became clear she was not so much of a nuisance.

And Andrea found herself watching them. They spent most of their time glaring and scowling at each other or just flat out ignoring the other person until they stormed off. The girl never spoke, never even looked as if she had any intention to try and give any response to anything anyone said. She had merely stared at Andrea with a bored expression upon introduction, her hazel eyes blank and disinterested. She'd simply sized Andrea up and then walked away as if the entire situation had never occurred. Andrea couldn't help but feel insulted. The girl's redneck bodyguard had howled with laughter and followed after with a "Wait up, Peaches!"

"Peaches", he was always calling her "Peaches". _Am I the only one who finds that completely disturbing_, Andrea had wondered every single time she heard him call out to that girl. That girl that had a little too much leg to her for her own good.

Nobody seemed to get that it wasn't the best idea for someone like him to watch out for a girl who'd gone through such a traumatic experience. It was still a topic of much discussion in Woodbury because of just how bad off the girl had been. She'd been covered in blood, head to toe, her hair matted and stinking along with the knife wounds carved into her arms and the gunshot in her right shoulder. She'd been slowly bleeding out for days. She shouldn't have been alive. The infection in one of the cuts in her bicep had been so bad she should have gone septic. She'd not only looked dead, but smelled dead. He had been ordered to leave her, shoot her to keep her from turning if he so chose, but he had refused, walked straight through the gates with her. And his only explanation was that she was a fighter.

Sometimes he treated her like a pet. Other times, his serf. But it would never make sense to Andrea. Merle didn't go out of his way for others. So, she made it her mission to find out what it was about this girl that had grabbed Merle's attention. Sometimes, when she watched the girl in a crowd as she drew further into herself and began to shift back and forth nervously as she looked anywhere but at the people surrounding her, Andrea would believe she'd caught a glimpse of it. It was something in the way she chewed at her fingers when nobody was looking and scowled at nothing in particular all damn day. How she walked around like she was in a cage she couldn't free herself from. It was right there and Andrea couldn't quite pinpoint it.

People left the girl alone and the girl seemed completely fine with that. But the problem was, they often seemed to forget she was even there and that made her the eyes and ears of Woodbury. People aired their dirty laundry right in front of her as if she were completely invisible. The girl didn't give off any indication that she even heard half of what she said, but something told Andrea she did.

The day Michonne left, Andrea had watched her go, her heart breaking and conflicted. It had been hard knowing that her friend would be out on her own. But Andrea wasn't about to pass up a chance to stay in Woodbury. She turned to leave, crestfallen and resigned and looked up to see the girl standing not far away one the sidewalk. Her eyes were trained on Michonne's back and she had a pained look on her face; a look of longing as she looked out at the world beyond the gate into Woodbury and in the back of Andrea's mind one thought formed for a millisecond. _She's a prisoner here._

Her gaze broke away from Michonne and she glanced around the street in disgust before turning up the sidewalk and she disappeared from view.

* * *

It had really been a hard task-not laughing when she saw the blonde lady interact with the Governor. She might as well have ripped all her clothes off. Julie sneered to herself in disgust. It was embarrassing.

She had never really figured out what the appeal was of sleeping with someone you found yourself attracted to right off the bat. You never knew if the guy was going to stick around long enough to make a go of it and she wasn't really entertained by the idea of a long term romance. She figured it had something to do with the trainwreck her sister had called a love life. She scowled as she though of the brunette. Just thinking about Rachel made her want to stab something in the eye with her crayons.

Watching the blonde and the Governor was like watching two overinflated peacocks strut around each other just for the sake of their dignity. Everybody knew where that was going.

Merle had started leaving her to her own devices in his mad search for his brother and the Governor was so busy reeling the new girl in that Julie was free to come and go as she pleased and she spent her time wandering around the town in a seemingly bored manner as she looked for weaknesses in the wall.

Deep down, she knew she'd never leave Woodbury. Not when Merle's stubborn ass refused to go with her. It made her nervous, the way the Governor had started talking about his brother's group. She'd heard the conversations. And she'd tried to warn Merle but he wouldn't listen. The bastard never listened to her. But Julie knew evil when she saw it. And the Governor was made of it. He was playing Merle like Charlie Daniels playing a fiddle, plying him with fake sympathy.

"You're easily replaceable, Dixon," she'd warned, "he'll twist everything up like he always does and they'll be asking for your head. Screaming 'justice' for a crime you've never committed. If you'd just leave with me, we could go on our own and find your fucking brother that way."

Julie had resigned herself to another sleepless night in bed. Merle was off somewhere doing more dirty work and the apartment was just too quiet without his rumbling snores to punctuate the silence. The silence made it hard to keep from focusing on the past, on the things that made her stop. She would remember how shit life was before and how it had just been looking up once she'd reached Georgia and then the outbreak happened. And things just continued to decline rapidly from there. When Merle found her.

_That time was particularly bad_, she thought, feeling her body go numb at the sudden memory of the weight that crushed her body into the cold earth beneath her. It always felt like she was drowning and trying unsuccessfully to break for the surface when she remembered them touching her the way they had, burning her spirit from her body. Sometimes, she felt like maybe they had been holding her under water instead of pinning her to the ground. The darkness began to spin around her as she fell further into that corner of her mind she always fought desperately to avoid.

The constant popping of gunfire finally brought her out of her thoughts and she was able to breathe again and air filled her lungs. She approached the bedroom window and looked out. There were thick clouds of smoke everywhere. People were shooting at shadows or running in blind terror. But Julie was having trouble feeling anything. She certainly didn't feel fear towards them.

She backed away from the window and crawled back into bed, letting the sound of gunfire slowly lull her to sleep. She was awoken when the bed shifted under a great amount of weight. She cracked her eyes opened and turned her head. Merle was laying next to her on the bed. He smelled of stale cigarettes and whiskey.

"My brother'n some of his group broke into Woodbury to rescue a couple of their people," Merle said quietly. She rolled closer to him and propped her head up, realizing the significance of this heart to heart they were having. She bit her bottom lip to keep from interrupting. "I was torturing one of 'em. Left him tied to a chair after I beat on 'im. Put a biter in there with him."

She couldn't stop herself from exhaling sharply. "You was right, girl, I'm replaceable," he rasped out, "those people cuffed me to a fuckin' roof and left me for dead and my little brother-_my own flesh and blood_-broke in to rescue _them_."

Julie dropped her head onto the edge for her pillow and brought her hand up to her mouth, chewing at the tips of her fingers as she thought quietly to herself. "Blood is thicker than water," she said finally. "The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb."

"Th'hell s'at mean," he asked quietly. His hard voice sounded so tired. Hesitantly, she scooted closer to him and tentatively rested her head on his shoulder. He tensed up, but didn't push her away. "It means when you saved me, we made a promise to each other. We'd fight for each other. It means that I won't leave you. I'll come find you. It means if you get cuffed to 'nother roof, I'll be there to hack your other hand off and spoon feed you for the rest of your life."

He let out a singular snort of amusement and she grinned against him. "You're the only person that's ever done right by me," she admitted softly, "and that counts for something with me."

There had been only silence after that as they both stared into the darkness until morning came and it was back to business as usual.

Julie had spent her day out in town, watching the clean up, with feigned disinterest. She sat herself at a picnic table near in clear view of the gate and unpacked her crayons to color. It irked her that coloring was really the only thing to do in the stupid little four block town she was caged in. She hadn't killed a Roamer in months.

"You wanna go to the stadium with me tonight."

Julie didn't even bother to look up at him. She reached over for the read and began to color in one of the cardinals flittering around Cinderella. "No," she said in almost a whisper, "you know I hate those stupid fights."

"Governor says it's gonna be a doozy." She froze at that and looked up at him and then over to the Governor who was busy overseeing some of the clean up. She turned back to look up at Merle then. She nodded once and shut the coloring book and then began packing up her crayons. She stood up and then stepped as close to him as possible, putting an arm around his middle in a casual manner as she spoke against his arm. "I'm going to go pack our things. It's time to leave."

Merle didn't say anything and it very well might have been because of her sudden and much too intimate manner of physical contact. She didn't really understand why he was still balking at being touched. It happened. He needed to get over it and quit being such an overgrown baby.

It hadn't taken her long to pack up all the ammo or the meager snacks they had. She'd packed what weapons she could strapped her machete to her thigh. Then she dismantled all the shot guns and automatics they wouldn't be able to take with them. She pried up the bottom of one of the lower cabinets and chucked some of the pieces under it and nailed it back in place. In case her gut was wrong, there was no reason to lose good weapons over it. But there was no way in hell she was going to let the stupid fucks in Woodbury use them if she could help it. She wrapped all of it up in some clothing and then wrapped the bag in a sweat shirt, carefully placing a grenade in her sweat shirt pocket and waited until it was time to go.

She seated herself on the first row of the bleachers, her inconspicuously balled up sweat shirt in her lap. "I'm surprised to see you here." Julie blinked over at the blonde-Andrea-as the woman settled down just behind her and tried to give her a friendly smile. Julie blinked again and then continued to watch the crowd as they amassed.

"You know, I used to know Merle. Before he was here. At Woodbury?" _Did you know him before or not, _Julie snarked internally as the woman tried to start up a conversation with her. She obvious didn't know the meaning of the word "mute", which was funny because even Merle knew that. She simply nodded curtly and sat up a bit straighter when she saw Merle approach with the Governor and they were flanked by all sorts of guards. She felt her stomach plummet. "I'm surprised a girl like you spends any time with him. You know, I mean, you live with him. You have to know what he's like." She couldn't help it. She turned and gave Andrea an incredulous look and the older woman had the good sense to blush in embarrassment before clearing her throat and looking away. Julie shook her head in amazement and then looked back ahead. She was too shocked by Andrea's poor attempt at fishing for information to really focus on the Governor's words. Had Andrea been genuinely concerned? Or was she trying to get dirt on the two of them for her creepy boyfriend? She squinted at the Governor. _Who fucked up his face? They need a serious high-five for that!_

They pushed somebody else up toward Merle and she bolted upright as Andrea called out in surprise, "Daryl?!"

"Oh shit," she breathed out silently. And she met Merle's eyes for a moment and knew then what would happen. Julie swallowed thickly and nodded. She lowered the sweatshirt down between her legs, letting the bag roll out of the black fabric and casually kicked it under her spot on the bleachers, feigned a shiver at the cool night air before she slowly pulled the sweat shirt over herself. She cast a glance back at his brother and paused when she noticed he was watching her warily and she narrowed her eyes for a moment. _Motorcycle dude? Huh. What a weird coincidence. What a small world._

Julie ran her fingers through her hair and looked over to Merle and winked, causing Daryl to turn to look at his brother and Merle outright decked him, knocking him to the dirt. Julie leaned forward on her elbows, careful to keep her hands low enough that she could grab the pack at a moment's notice. And she waited. Her pulse quickened as she watched the Dixon brothers fight first against one another and then back to back against the Roamers as the people of Woodbury screamed for blood and justice.

And then all hell broke loose. Merle called for her a split second before she pulled the bag out from under her and slung it over her shoulder and took off running in one fluid motion. She was finally free.

* * *

Daryl didn't have time to sigh in relief when his brother had bent over him and told him to follow his lead. He just knew that meant that they were back together and that it wasn't just about the survival of the group anymore. His brother was with him again. They were going to look out for each other again. Andrea called out about the walkers and they were fighting side by side once more. Really it was back to back, but it was just like old times. And he let the nostalgia wash over him for a moment, giving him a temporary reprieve from the eminent danger at hand and providing him with the chance to compartmentalize and assess the situation. Which seemed like all of five seconds when Rick and the cavalry broke in and once they were through with the walkers, they moved on to the soldier boys and townspeople stupid enough to try and stop them from escaping.

Daryl felt like laughing as the weight lifted off his shoulders. It was a weight he'd been carrying since the quarry and it was finally gone. He snapped back to the present when his brother yelled next to him, "Let's go, Peaches! Move that cute ass of yers double time!"

He gave his brother his best "what the fuck" look and Merle just grinned and then slid his eyes past him. Daryl turned to follow his look and nearly stumbled into his brother when he noticed the girl who'd been sitting on the bleachers. The girl who'd kicked the rucksack under the bleachers without a single person noticing but himself and his brother. She had a shit-eating grin on her face as she sprinted beside them, keeping pace with little effort.

And Daryl fully realized was staring, but he couldn't help it. _What the fuck has been going on_, he wondered, _Just what the fuck?_ She dropped back out of sight and then popped up on Merle's other side.

"You bring the party favors," Merle asked and she shot him a look that clearly said, "Of course" and then reached into the front of her hoodie and handed Merle a hand grenade. He pulled the pin and chucked it behind him.

"Damn it, Merle," Rick hissed somewhere nearby. _Damn it Merle indeed._


	4. Chapter 4

**I only own what I created. Which is my original characters. Read and review. All critiques are greatly appreciated.**

* * *

There were a lot of things she didn't miss from before. In fact, they outnumbered the things she did miss. She didn't miss money. She didn't miss any of her jobs, she didn't miss her hometown, and she definitely didn't miss her sister. But she missed the freedom.

She'd been free up until she'd almost died and Merle saved her. She'd had it good back then. Miles and miles of open road to explore. No motel bills to pay, no having to worry about making enough money to pay for gas. No having to worry about finding an easy mark to rip off for a few dollar bills from a pilfered wallet. Not more unnaturally greasy truck stop dinner food. No more having to hitchhike to the nearest payphone when he car inevitably broke down and she needed to call a tow truck.

It was a literal free-for-all. It truly was luck of the draw now. And she'd been making a good living this was way. She could finally do what she wanted and come and go as she pleased and nobody was there to judge her or stop her. Until Woodbury. And now she was trapped in a fucking prison.

Merle wasn't happy about it either. They'd taken her machete from her. She was getting really tired of people confiscating her hardware. She'd resorted to tapping her fingers against her thigh in its absence. Merle kept shooting her annoyed looks. She just glared back. What did he think she was supposed to do?

The guy in charge tried to put a calming hand on her shoulder to get her to sit like he thought she was some kind of fragile little girl who didn't know her ass from a hole in the wall and she jumped nearly from across the room into a corner and everyone started screaming. Merle was yelling about how he was going to gut Officer Friendly. The Asian guy he'd beat up was screaming about how he needed to leave. The old guy was trying to calm everyone down. And Daryl was threatening to leave with Merle.

And someone laughed and then she could hear the cackling bouncing off the inside of her skull and she couldn't breathe. There was a fire crackling and leaves crunching and hoots and whistles and that evil cackling. And the hands were everywhere. Grabbing and pinching and squeezing. She couldn't stop shaking and the spots were dancing in her vision as he cackled in her face and bit at her lips.

Stars exploded across her vision and she whipped back and forth. "God damn it, Girl, snap out of it," he bellowed, his voice grounding her, "C'mon, fucking come back. You ain't there no more you stupid little fuck!" He smacked her across the face one more time for good measure and then let her go and she fell back against a table, drawing deep breaths as she fought to calm herself and stop shaking. "You need to cut that shit out before I put you down like a fucking dog."

"Well, is anybody gonna get me anything for her face or are you all gonna stand around like a bunch of dipshits," Merle asked the group around them. Someone sprang into action and there was the echo of footsteps on concrete.

Julie continued to stare at her hands, watched as they vibrated violently against the tabletop.

A small, pale hand came into view and she couldn't stop from flinching even after it became clear to her that they were offering a wet cloth for what she could only assume was a split lip. She shot Merle a weak glare and then nodded after a few tense moments and his posture slackened a bit. She focused back on the table top and refused to look up again even as she heard Merle threaten the man who'd tried to touch her again.

"You ever try somethin' like that with her again-any of ya-an I'll kill you nice'n slow an' then I'll watch you turn," his voice was almost jovial in tone as if he was describing what they had had for breakfast, "an' if you're lucky, I'll kill ya after that."

"I didn't mean anything by it," the man said finally as way of an apology. Merle didn't bother replying. Julie closed her eyes and lay her head on the cool metal she was hunched over. It felt good on her throbbing face. She licked at her lip and winced. He'd gotten her good that time.

"You really think a girl like that will survive, out there," a female voice hissed. Another voice piped up, "And with someone like you for company?"

"Girl goes with me, package deal, folks." Merle's tone brooked no argument.

"Merle goes, I go." Everyone started yelling again, clearly outraged. "You can't leave, Daryl, look Merle can stay," someone offered. But Merle was yelling that he was leaving no matter what. The Governor would be gunning for him and he wasn't going to stick around for that shit storm. She slipped a hand under the table and started tapping her fingers against her thigh, letting her fingernails bite into her skin. The pain was a nice distraction. Things were getting overwhelming again. There wasn't enough room. There were in a fucking prison for Christ's sake.

"Let me talk to him," the younger Dixon cut in and everyone seemed to back down immediately and she opened her eyes to watch the pair. When he gestured for his older brother to leave the room with him, she sat up and scrambled over the table like a skittish cat after them and nearly fell into Merle's side. He didn't push her away as he normally would and she knew he understood that she was too close to a complete meltdown to function properly.

The feeling of the sunlight hitting her face once again was achingly wonderful and some of her panic subsided. She broke away from the two brothers and sat off by herself near the chain link fencing.

"What's up with the girl?"

"Well, obviously she's working out some issues."

"Yeah, don't seem like she's doing too good a job." The two men stood in silence as they let the statement hang in the air. "They said you could stay, Merle. You could make a go of it here. These are good people."

"They cuffed me to a fuckin' roof an' left me for dead," Merle snapped, "I had to cut my fuckin' hand off!"

"Rick went back for you. I went back for you. We tried to do right by you." Merle scoffed at that and Julie found herself scoffing along with him mentally, pointedly ignoring the sincerity she read in his younger brother's voice. "Rick's done right by me so far. He's a good man. You should stay."

"We can't," Merle replied and it would have sounded apologetic if he hadn't said it in such a way that it sounded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. She could feel Merle's eyes on her and it was making her shoulder blades itch. "We don't belong here. We belong out there."

"She ain't your problem." Julie couldn't stop the resentment from building up inside her at that statement. _Fuck you, Daryl Dixon, you selfish little piece of backwoods shit. Get bit, you asshole._

She wound her fingers in the chain link fence and watched the Roamers as they pushed at the outer fencing. It was like watching a room full of drunks all try to fit through a doorway at the same time. They would surge forward and bounce backwards and stumble. Some would fall.

"Naw, she ain't a problem, she's still fuckin' goin' with me," Merle countered finally, "an' if I were even gonna consider stayin' she'd stay with me."

"Then I guess all three of us are leaving," Daryl challenged as if he were throwing a wrench in some dastardly plan Merle had had laid out for the two of them. _Ooh, that'll show him, Daryl, you mastermind, you._ She couldn't help but shake her head at the stupidity of it.

She pushed back the small amount of sympathy for him. It was always hard to leave home. Even if you hated it.

"Peaches," Merle called and she ignored him until she heard him grumble in exasperation, "Are you even in there, fuckwit?"

It occurred to her that he may have been trying to ask her opinion. She turned to give him a loaded look and a half shrug. He let out a bark of laughter and clapped Daryl on the back. Daryl looked about as pleased as she felt and she wasn't sure whether or not she was glad that the feeling was so obviously mutual. Obviously, tact was not a Dixon strong suit.

She stepped away from the fence and let out a long suffering sigh as she came to stand next to the elder brother, crossing her arms in a show of displeasure. Merle frowned at her. "Don't gimme that. C'mon now, you knew how it would be. You can't try to fuckin' change anythin'."

She rolled her eyes and turned to scrutinize Daryl. He and Merle shared the same blue eyes and the same standoffish attitude. And it wasn't that hard to tell Daryl Dixon did feelings about as well as his brother did. She could work with that. But he was too fucking quiet. _Why is he so fucking quiet? Maybe he's defective,_ She hypothesized_, Bet he got dropped on his head. It's shaped funny. And he has stupid hair. _She squinted suspiciously. This was really going to rub her the wrong way for a very long time.

Daryl was every bit as dirty as Merle was clean. Being in the military had ingrained in the older Dixon that cleanliness was of the utmost importance. He'd even kept the same high and tight haircut. There wasn't a stitch of clothing on Daryl Dixon that wasn't caked in dirt and damp with sweat. His hair was greasy and it stuck to his head. She sniffed her disgust and turned back around when he looked over at her, sensing her blatant stare.

Gravel crunched next to her and that familiar scent of sweat, smoke, and earth washed over her. Merle. "What's your thoughts?"

She didn't bother looking up. "We can't stay here," she said quietly. "There's not enough space. I can't be in here. I can't-Did you see the way they looked at me when I-" she took in a deep breath to calm herself and stepped closer to Merle, anchoring herself in the only way she knew how as she curled her fingers further around the chainlink fencing, "and they think you're a threat."

"I am."

"You're so full of shit your eyes should be brown." He only grunted in response and she closed her eyes, leaning her face against the fence. "We don't belong here. We'd do better on our own. Staying here will only get us killed."

"Daryl wants us to stay here."

She scoffed at that. "Daryl wants you to stay here and me to fuck off."

"Sometimes, _I_ want ya to fuck off." She couldn't help it. She let out a laugh and Merle chuckled along with her. They smirked at each other for a minute and then Merle patted her on the back gruffly. "Havin' you around's better than gold, Girl."

Julie smiled.

* * *

_Julie tossed the large duffle out the window and watched it roll down the slope of the porch roof and over the edge. There was an audible thud and then a whispered, "What'd you pack, Julie? A fuckin' bowling ball?"_

_She let out a giggle as she swung her leg over the lip of the window sill and slowly climbed out. She slowly scooted toward the edge and peered over and into the darkness. "Where are you?" There was silence and the then the sound of footsteps on dew covered grass. "I'm right here," he whispered from directly below her, "swing your legs over and just drop. I'll catch you."_

_Julie inhaled deeply and did as she was asked, exhaling on the way down, before landing in two very muscular arms. She yelped in surprise and then laughed as he crushed his lips to hers. She threw her arms around his neck and giggled into his mouth. She had to smother her laugh in his shoulder as he jogged over to his truck, opened the passenger door and unceremoniously dumped her in the seat._

_Julie never thought running away from home would be the happiest moment of her life up until then. Dropping out at sixteen so she could work all day and take night classes to get her GED had been worth it. Being able to look in the rearview mirror and watch the dilapidated wood-panel house disappear from view was so freeing and so completely devastating at the same time. She'd been dreaming about it since she was twelve. And it was finally here and the build up was over and as the relief slowly ebbed away she was left wondering what was next. Where would they go from there? He'd told her a million times, pinning her with those blue eyes, that they would make it. She knew they would. But for how long?_

_She wondered if Rachel had been as terrified as she was. She'd left first. She'd left through the front door, not through her bedroom window like a coward. Their father hadn't even looked up from the television as Rachel had declared, "I'm out of this shithole," and slammed the door so hard it shook the front of the house. She hadn't even said goodbye. Hell, she hadn't even apologized for stealing all the money Julie had managed to save up for her own escape. Two-hundred dollars gone. It wasn't much, but she'd gotten from babysitting. A lot of babysitting. She'd taken their mother's bracelet, too. The one their mother had left Julie. The one she'd clasped around Julie's tiny wrist as she walked out the door in her waitressing uniform for the last time. When she'd told Julie she loved her and she was "Mommy's brave, strong girl."_

_He drove until they crossed the state line into Kentucky and then they slept in their first seedy motel until noon, wrapped up in blankets and each other, high off the realization that it truly was the two of them against the world now._

_They stopped for good in North Carolina. She found a diner to work in while she considered whether or not she really wanted to go to community college and he started working at a garage in the next town over. And things were perfect. He was always there to pick her up after work. They would sit in the very back booth and share a basket of fries and a breakfast platter. She liked the biscuits and gravy, he liked the short stack of pancakes drenched in maple syrup._

_They were making ends meet and just beginning to become on a first name basis with people in both towns. And Julie could feel that unfamiliar itch start to settle in. It made so that her smile didn't quite reach her eyes anymore. There wasn't so much of a bounce in her step and she couldn't remember the last time she had full out laughed at anything._

_But he still made her heart flutter in her chest and her entire body shiver as her nerves quaked whenever he came close to her. She was a tuning fork and he was hitting all the right notes. There was magic in the way he touched her. The itch was gone when he touched her, completely forgotten if only for a moment. She could smile then. It was a year of bliss. Followed by a lifetime of despair._

* * *

Julie followed behind the pair with a sour look on her face. They'd been bitching back and forth for over an hour and Daryl Dixon had, at some point, decided she was the most insufferable human being left on the planet. She'd resorted to glaring at the back of his head in hopes that it would spontaneously combust and then she and Merle wouldn't have to deal with him anymore.

She tied her hair up in a messy bun and tried to spend her time ignoring the drama that involved the two men in front of her. It was getting harder and harder to ignore them. And Daryl kept making pithy comments about how she wouldn't talk. He kept asking if it meant she was a retard. She gave him the stink eye every time he looked at her. It made her uncomfortable. He kept looking at her with his eyes and she didn't like it. He'd gotten meaner the longer the three of them were alone.

He had pretty much ignored her when they first left. He hadn't made a single rude remark. They'd settled down to make camp for the night and she and Merle had been tasked with starting a fire and keeping a watch for walkers as Daryl called them. He'd come back with three squirrels long after dusk and wordlessly began gutting them. Julie had never seen someone gut a squirrel before and had watched in morbid fascination. All while she and Merle sat side by side completely bored. Merle and Daryl were tossing out ideas as to where they should head while their meager dinner cooked and she had listened thoughtfully for a long while. The conversation always circled back to returning to the prison and eventually, Julie had tuned them out completely as her mind began to supply her with scenario after horrifying scenario, the least disturbing being trapped in a cell with a cellblock full of walkers trying to reach her.

She had to stop eating and handed her portion off to Merle, who had taken it without a word. Daryl had scowled at her then. "Too good to eat squirrel, Princess? Sorry we don't have no fuckin' steak for ya."

Merle hurled a nearby rock at him. "Oh, shut the fuck up, you whiny little bitch. You always have to get so bent out of shape about every single fucking thing. If your feelings are so hurt maybe you oughta run back to Officer Friendly so he kiss your boo-boos better."

"Fuck you an' your dumb bitch."

Julie glanced off into the darkness of the surrounding wilderness. _I wonder if he's still alive_. She stretched out beside the fire and watched as the embers glowed dimly under the low flames. It was better not to think of him, even if she had trouble forgetting him sometimes.

Merle stretched out a few inches away and without a thought to it, she rolled toward him, resting her head on his shoulder. He looked at her and opened his mouth to snap at her but then thought better of it and looked away. She brought her hand up to curl loosely around his bicep and closed her eyes.

"Gonna go take a piss," Daryl growled from the other side of the fire. She could hear the crunching of leaves under his boots as he stomped off. The next morning he was insufferable. He'd started off the day by smacking her in the face with her bag when he'd tossed it on her head and then kicked her in the boot, causing her to jump and skitter away from the two men with wide eyes and labored breathing. That had started the first fight, which had then devolved into one about the nightmares she's had the night before. They'd started out as pleasant memories and then devolved in the memories she'd been trying to ignore and push away ever since she'd ended up with Merle.

It had been going on for hours when it finally became physical. They'd started shoving and it had genuinely surprised Julie. She had been too stuck in her own head to notice how heated the exchange had gotten. She'd watched wordlessly as Merle had tried to pull his brother back toward him and ripped the shirt from his back. Any protest she'd had toward his mistreatment died in her throat. She'd never seen scars like that. She wondered if the scars on her arms and shoulders would look like them after enough time passed.

Merle seemed frozen, too, and Julie slowly moved toward Daryl, pulling him up slowly and gently once she reached him, careful not to make eye contact. _It's the end of the world and we're all still running from our pasts_, she thought sadly, _We're all still running from ghosts who can't touch us anymore._

She felt Daryl eye her for a moment, but kept her eyes trained on Merle, who for once seemed at a loss as to how to handle the situation. There was no way in hell she was going to let Daryl Dixon know that she understood him. No way in hell.

"We have to go back with him," she said finally once she was sure Daryl was out of earshot. "He's your brother."

"I didn't know-I mean, I didn't think-"

"You didn't want to," she replied softly, "and that's okay. You did what you could to survive. You couldn't protect him forever."

"You don't know shit, so shut your fucking mouth," he yelled and she couldn't help but jump away from him. He took off after his brother and Julie settled for following at a good distance behind him. The entire journey back to the prison felt like she was walking to her death, sticking her head right in the hangman's noose. But she had promised Merle she was with him until the end. Once at the gates, she'd resumed her post next Merle and made sure to keep as far away from the leader of Daryl's group as possible.

Merle had been given a cell next to Daryl's and she had been given the one on the other side of the hunter. She'd skirted around the man in charge-_Rick_-and dropped her pack on the upper bunk in Merle's cell all while staring at him, waiting for him to challenge her request. He'd simply walked in, grabbed her bag and tossed it back in the cell she had been assigned to. _Fuckhole_.

From then on, she spent all her time outside, staring out passed the fences at the walkers who pressed in on them. The entire place screamed death trap. It was key that you kept moving. It was because she had stopped that those men had-she tore herself away from the fence violently and wrapped her arms around her middle.

"You get used to it after awhile," an airy voice said next to her and she jumped. It was the blonde girl who always had the baby glue to her hip. She smiled up at Julie and it unnerved her just how innocent her big eyes were. Julie wondered if she'd ever been that way.

"I know it's weird to think about. Getting used to dead people trying break into your home to eat you...your home that's a prison, but Rick knows," she trailed off when she noticed Julie inch away at the mention of Rick. "He didn't know. We didn't know. He wouldn't have touched you if he'd known."

"You don't have to talk to us." Her voice was so soft. "But I'd like it if you would trust us. We're good people and it's nice to have someone here who's closer to my age. Especially, a girl."

She looked over at the girl and she smiled at Julie again. "My name's Beth, Maggie's my sister, and Herschel's my Daddy." She tried to smile again, but Julie had gone back to staring at the walkers. They were never getting out alive. Eventually, they were going to die there.


	5. Chapter 5

**I own nothing but the original characters I create. Please read and enjoy and review if you're up for it. I would really appreciated. Thank you to every single person who has favorite, followed, etc.**

* * *

Beth Greene had made it her mission to befriend Julie. She was determined that she would somehow get the other blonde to talk to her and continually talked and asked questions she knew would never be answered. Julie listened in silence and sometimes she would look away from her place against the chain-link fence of the inner courtyard She always had the baby, Rick's infant daughter, Judy, propped up on one hip.

That had been one of the few surprises when they'd first come to the prison. Babies didn't belong in this savage world anymore...and yet here one was. And she was like being close to God for everyone there. Julie could see it in their faces when they looked at the baby. Everyone believed that she was their salvation.

Beth always asked her if she wanted to hold the little girl that was forever clad in pink and bows and flowers and Julie would lean away from the chubby cherub the Greene girl held out to her, more aware of the guards that had been posted to watch them. Every now and then it was Carl when he wasn't helping his father with something. Usually, it was Daryl, who stood off not far away with his crossbow watching her like a hawk eying a rabbit.

"'Fore Rick and Carl named her-Carl picked it out-Daryl was calling her 'Little Asskicker'. Kinda stuck, y'know?" No, she didn't know. There was a long silence. "I always wanted kids. Get married an' start a family, but who wants to have kids with all this going on?" She knew the question was rhetorical. "And Judith wasn't planned by no means and with the way she came into the world she shouldn't be here, but she is. She's a fighter." Julie looked over at her at that. She study the way Beth looked at the baby in her arms. The baby who knew no other world than the one intent on destroying every bit of her and the family who fought to protect her. "Maybe that's why he gave her that nickname? So, she'd keep fighting even when it seems like she should give up?"

Julie moved her gaze down to the baby who's lunged forward to grab a fistful of her hair and yanked painfully at it. She wanted to be mad, but there were so many other things she was mad about that was occupying her time. She was mad at Rick for not moving his people away from the threat Woodbury posed. She was mad at how everyone but Beth and Merle looked at her like she was a time bomb about to go off. She was mad at how Daryl and Carl actually believed she would be cruel enough to kill a baby. She was mad at Merle not for leaving with her after she'd suggested it again. She was mad about the blind faith all these people shared in following that stupid Sheriff's Deputy who had no idea what he was up against.

Julie reached up to pry her hair out of little Judith's fingers and reluctantly let the girl keep ahold of her hand and jam her thumb in her slobbery little mouth. She couldn't help making a face. Babies were not her forte. She'd never had a dream about starting a family like Beth. It had never been in the cards for her before and that wasn't going to change now.

"I need to pee. Can you take her," Beth asked as she thrust Judith into Julie's arms and Julie scrambled to right the now squirming and unsure infant. She scowled over Judith's head toward Beth as the girl all but skipped away from her. Has to pee my ass, she snarked silently. Judith let out a louder than usual squeal and she jumped before looking at the baby reticently. _How the hell am I supposed to entertain you_, she wondered, cocking her head to the side. She surveyed the undead outside the prison compound and back further away from the fence. It made her extremely uncomfortable to hold the baby. Especially with all the Walkers lingering not far off. She patted Judith's back absently as she waited for Beth to return. And she waited. And waited. Beth wasn't coming back.

She looked around frantically. Daryl was somewhere, watching. Maybe she could dump the child off on him. She scowled when she realized the previous spot he'd been occupying was empty. She looked back down at the baby, who was giving her a weirdly placid smile. "Don't look at me like that," she huffed under her breath and then stomped back toward the door leading toward C Block.

Beth was just coming down the steps when Julie met her at the bottom. She shoved the infant into the startled girl's arms and then stormed toward her cell. That wouldn't be happening again.

* * *

Merle kept running off somewhere in the prison. Julie was a little more than certain Merle had found the prison's confiscated contraband. He'd mentioned having been in prison before. It had to be driving him just as mad to be there. She wondered idly if this had been the prison he was sent to.

She paused in the middle of eating her spaghetti o's when Beth sat down across from her and gave her a friendly yet shy smile. She looked at the blonde briefly and continued eating until Merle settled down next to her.

"So, Blondie, why you followin' Peaches aroun' s'much? You sweet on'er," he asked lewdly, "Hopin' for a little girl on girl?"

"Merle," Daryl warned from not far off, a bowl of baked beans in one hand, the fingers of his free hand twitching in irritation. Merle turned his torso in his brother's direction and scowled at him, annoyed at having his fun ruined. "What, you 'fraid they won't let you watch?"

Julie elbowed him in the side roughly and he growled and whirled on her. "What?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. _You know what_. "Don't fuckin' look at me like that." She let her eyebrow rise even further and then let it drop into a scowl. He smacked his good hand on the tabletop and Beth jumped in her seat. "Well, how the fuck am I s'pose to entertain myself?"

Julie shrugged. _Not my problem, Doucheface_. He let out a single huff and went back to eating what looked like the other half of Daryl's can of beans.

Beth smiled at her thankfully and Julie chose to ignore it in favor for eating her barely warm meal.

"Are you from Georgia," Beth asked as she watched Julie slowly spoon her dinner in her mouth. It was always quiet at meal times now that she and Merle were in the prison. She didn't have to wonder if the others were listening in. They always were. She stared blandly back at Beth. "I'm from Georgia. But you already knew that. Never been outta state. Pretty sure you didn't know that. Maggie has. For school."

Julie eyed Daryl as he settled at the opposite end of the table on the same side as Beth and then slowly slid her gaze over to Beth, who squirmed in her seat at what was probably considered close proximity for the quiet brother. Merle elbowed her and she couldn't help her snort of amusement. So he noticed. Merle chuckled in response.

"Did you have a big family? Brothers? Sisters?"

"She may have mentioned she had a sister," Merle answered for her, ignoring her incensed look, "said she was a whore. Don't think she likes her much, what with wishin' she was dead an' all."

"I love my sister," Beth replied quietly. Merle scoffed at her as if that was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard, "Well, that's awful cute a'you."

Julie spooned the last bit of food in her mouth, choked it down, and then left the table. She dumped her dish in the dirty dish bin and started scrubbing it vigorously.

"She cleans when she get real mad." Julie slowly turned to level Merle with an incredulous look, her hazel eyes burning with anger. He grinned churlishly at her as if daring her to say something. Her lips drew out in a thin line and she stormed out of C Block and back out into the awaiting sunlight.

_I can't take much more of this_, she thought as she paced, stopping on to smack the fence with the flat of her palm, _even Merle fits in better here than I do. He has Daryl. I should have let them come back by themselves. I should have gotten as far away as I could. I should have-_

"I know you're never gonna talk to me." Julie stopped pacing, but refused to turn toward the sound of Beth's voice. "I know whatever happened to you out there before everything and before Merle is why. I know it was horrible enough that you don't believe there's any good in the world anymore. I know that's why you cry some times at night. I hear you when I go to get Judith a bottle. I have bad dreams, too. And maybe there isn't any good left other than what little is here. Judith, Carl, Maggie, Glenn, Rick-every one of them has good in them that you just ain't seen yet. I promise.

"Before we came here, Momma an' my brother Shawn were bit an' turned an' we thought that some day we could save them. But we couldn't an' we know that now.." Her voice faltered and Julie looked over her shoulder at her. She was crying, but holding it together just barely. "And then our farm got overrun. My boyfriend Jimmy got eaten. The barn burned down. An' Judith's mom died here bringin' her into the world. Carol lost a daughter a while back."

"But Daryl found his brother," she said, smiling, "after all this time, he found his _brother_. Do you know how...That shouldn't have happened. If there was nothing good left in the world. Merle wouldn't have found you an' Daryl wouldn't have found Merle. An' you know I'm right."

Julie watched her as she walked off, mulling over her words. She turned back toward the fence and resumed her silent watch.

* * *

It was the same feeling she'd had all those years ago when it had happened. She woke up early and everything felt off. There was just something in the atmosphere that made her body hum with nervous energy. Something important was going to happen. Something was going to change again. She pulled her boots on and stepped out of her cell, unsheathing her machete as she walked passed Daryl's cell, ignoring the way he sat up and watched her, suddenly tense. She stopped in front of Merle's cell and looked in.

Her body remained tense even after she saw his prone form and her his loud snores. Even in her harried state, she couldn't help frowning at the noise. She ignored Glenn and Maggie as they left their cell, ignored Carl as he stood by with Judith. She strode right out of the C Block and stopped right in front of the fence and watched as Rick set about tending the meager garden he was trying to set up.

She could hear the glass shattering in her memories, the sudden tang of blood in her mouth and the feeling of something punching her in the gut hard enough to knock the air from her lungs and stop time indefinitely. She could remember the world as it somersaulted around her in a dizzying dance that left her vision fuzzy with black spots. For a while, she hadn't been able to hear or see or speak. It was a strange sleep. Everything was hard and sharp.

It was just like that day. That same dark energy that had forever altered her destiny in an instant. Even at ten years old she had known that there was a chill that no one else felt.

She had been at ease up until then, having slowly grown accustomed to the routines of others in the prison thanks to Beth's gentle coaxing. She still refused to speak to them. The past wasn't there's to know and it was the only piece of her that they couldn't keep caged.

Julie never thought about that day over a decade ago. It had changed so much for her, but none of that was relevant now. Except ever since she'd come to know the people she was now grouped with, things had begun surfacing bit by bit. They kept calling to her one by one. They were the constant reminders of what happened when you let your guard down. Today, the alarm bells had reached a fever pitch. She rubbed at her stomach as she remembered the feeling of the pavement as it cradled her into unconsciousness.

"-okay," she heard Beth ask worriedly, Judith, as usual, perched on her hip. Julie nodded and turned to her. She could see Daryl not far off with Merle, watching them. They both looked as on edge as she felt. They sense it, too. Daryl looked back at his brother and she refocused on Beth.

"Everybody's supposed to pull their weight around here," Beth started. She looked nervous. Julie tilted her head, asking her a silently to continue. "We're not too sure about your skill sets, but Merle mentioned you're good at cleaning an' Carol an' I could really use a hand with the dishes and the laundry. I got Judith most of the time and Carol usually helps take care of cooking and she goes on runs a lot. She also helps Daddy when one of us gets hurt. So, we could use someone who's good with those things. The cleaning, I mean. If you're okay with that?" Her nerves were getting to her and it made Julie smile. Beth licked her lips and continued, stuttering, "I just thought, you know, if you had some things you did around here to pull your weight-you know, if you decided to stay? They'd be able to...they wouldn't be so afraid."

She looked down at her feet at that. The group's ill ease with her had stopped being irritating around the same time it became disappointing. She wasn't sure when that had happened, but it had. She nodded absently.

"Great! Eventually, maybe you can help me with Judith," Beth said with forced happiness, picking up on Julie's dampened mood. Julie attempted to smile at her and Beth stepped forward. "Would you mind holding her a minute? I want to go tell Carol, she'll be the most receptive to my idea."

Julie stepped away from the fence and walked over to Beth, reaching her arms out for the baby she was still getting used to. As she smiled at Beth, she happened to look over her head just in time to catch Daryl shoving his brother violently to the ground as he bolted toward her and Beth at the same moment something ripped through her right side, just above her hip and she stumbled forward. Beth stepped back from her, her face twisted in horror. Judith was screaming and Julie focused on her long enough to see the blood. "Is she okay," she tried to ask as Beth's tear-streaked face hovered over her. It must have been later in the day than she'd realized because it was getting dark out very fast. She could hear the fireworks shooting off in the distance. Was it July already?

"Girl, you with me, you here?" She knew that voice. It was a nice voice. But it didn't sound angry like she was used to. She felt something pressing down on her side, which was really wet, which explained why she was so cold. "Girl, c'mon, look at me! Rick! Rick!"

She followed the chest she was cradled to up until she reached the face that went with it. Angry blue eyes. Now she knew who that voice belonged to. Why the hell was he holding her? She didn't like him at all. "Jason, I ain't interested in what you got," she muttered, pushing his hands away from her, smacking them had when they pushed at her stomach, "Tainted."

"The hell you on about girl?"

"_Who the fuck is Jason?_ Quit hitting me!"

"No, you deserve it," she snarled, "Leave me 'lone. Try'n watch the fireworks."

"She's lost a lot of blood, Daryl, where's Rick?!"

"Daddy, help her!"

"Get to work, Old Man."

"The fireworks...I can't see them."

It took her awhile to focus, but she finally succeeded. "Merle, I think I'm dying."

* * *

Daryl hated everything about her. The way she pranced around his brother like she had him wrapped around her finger really pissed him off something fierce. It pissed him off even more when he figured out the stupid little thing actually did. He didn't like the way she would smile at him like the two of them shared some secret that nobody else was ever going to be in on. And they way everyone kept watching her like she was some broken little doll that needed to be coddled. It was ridiculous. If she could hold her own around Merle and garner his respect, she didn't need to be protected. And nobody Merle had ever been keen on should be trusted him.

And it really bothered him that Beth kept bringing the baby around the crazy girl and kept trying to talk to her. He didn't want to know anything about her. He was fine with that. He hated her and she hated him.

And where the hell did she get off laying all over his brother like that? Did she really have to touch him so much? It nauseating. The way she acted like she had any sway in any of their decisions, the way Merle actually considered her damn opinions...

He was sick of watching her prance about in those damn shorts, while she followed Merle around like a lost puppy. Or the way she tossed her hair over her shoulder when it got in her face. The least she could do was tie it up before it gave her whiplash. He had half a mind to sneak in her cell and cut it off with his hunting knife while she slept, but then she'd started sleeping in Merle's cell and then he'd considered stabbing his brother in the chest with it for letting her touch him and decided it was best to just stay away from both of them until he wasn't feeling quite so homicidal.

Instead, he would follow Rick's lead and keep a close watch on her. He would study her until he could figure out what her end game was. All girls like her had an angle. There was no way she wasn't up to something.

It did bother him though, the way she acted when people touched her. He'd seen enough people act that way to know some serious shit had happened to her at one point. He didn't want to know. He didn't need to know. Merle wasn't telling and he wasn't going to go ask. He didn't care, that was for certain. He hated her, hence the not giving two shits what had screwed her up that bad. What had made those mercurial eyes so cold and dead. Except when she looked at Merle. Then they fucking lit up like a kid on Christmas. It was bullshit. God, how he hated her.

Until he'd seen the light reflect off that scope as he watched her step toward Beth to take Judith and he couldn't believe he had been so distracted by her that he'd missed them. They'd fucking rolled up like the Goddamn cavalry and he'd been too busy arguing with Merle about how he didn't trust her while he stared at her to hear them.

But the second that he caught sight of that flash and heard the crack of the bullet through the air, he was suddenly on the ground with her cradled in his arms. He'd even watched her bleed out dumbly as he replayed the second she stumbled forward and then dropped like so much dead weight.

And shook her as hard as he could as he screamed for Rick and tried to stop the bleeding, fighting with Merle over who held her while she slurred nonsense about some asshole named Jason who no one knew shit about (or gave the slightest fuck about).

He couldn't remember getting her to Hershel. And he couldn't remember laying her out on the steel table in the mess while Beth cried.

"There's no exit wound, I'll have to dig it out," Hershel said, "she needs blood and I don't know her type. This doesn't look good."

"Give'er mine," his brother said from the door way. "Gave her mine before. I'll give'er mine again. Nurse at Woodbury said somethin' 'bout how she can't have any blood she wants."

"Universal receiver. She's a lucky girl then," Hershel said, as he directed Maggie to press down on the bullet hole while he set about hooking her up to an IV-one of the few ones that they'd manage to get away from the farm with.

"Hurry up'n stick me, Doc," Merle snapped as he sat down neck to her, "she ain't got all day."

"She's so pale," Beth whispered as she sniffled and their eyes met over the girl's still form. A surprising feeling of dread welled up in his chest. They'd already lost so many people and now they were going to lose another. How many more would he see die before he himself was also gone?

"Once, I've got her hooked up. Daryl, I need you to hold her down," Hershel told him as he grabbed ahold of her left arm and prepared to stick her with the needle, "I don't have anything strong enough to keep her from feeling this."

Daryl took up his place at the head of the table, at her head and placed both hands on her shoulders, pinning all his weight on her. "Ready when you are, Doc."

"Beth, see if you can hold her feet. Carl, you, too." The two teens scrambled for her legs. Beth straddled her knees and gripped the sides of the table until her knuckles turned white.

"Whatever happens, do not let go of her," Hershel warned, looking at them so solemnly that it made Daryl's insides sink, "she is going to fight you as hard as she can. No matter what. _She has to stay down_."

He looked at his daughter, then up at Daryl, who nodded. Hershel undid the front of her shorts and pulled them down off her hips and when she didn't move, Daryl let out the breath he didn't even know he was holding. Hershel paused and then gestured to a long scar to the left of her hip. "She's had major surgery."

"Here we go," Hershel said as he dug the pair of tweezers into the bullet hole and she started screaming and thrashing harder than he had ever seen someone fight before. It was terrifying.

"No! No, no, no, no! Get off me! Please don't do this! _Please_! Please, stop, stop! No, _don't do this_! Get off me." The way she was looking at him, the sheer terror in her eyes as they flooded with tears. It reminded him of an animal caught in a snare, ready to chew its own leg off to survive. Daryl knew for sure in that moment that he never wanted to know what had happened to her. He chanced a glance over to his brother. Merle was hunched over, covering his head as he tried to block out the sound of her screaming. He was shaking.

"Get off me," she begged over and over again, "Stop! Please, just shoot me! Don't do this again! I can't take it anymore! Stop it, stop it, stop it! Kill me! Kill me!"

"I've got it," Herschel yelled just loud enough for them to hear him and Beth let out a sob of relief. Carl had let go of her the moment she had started screaming and was backed up near the cell block doorway, pressed up against the bars as he watched her fight. He was petrified with fear.

"Merle, hit her." Merle sat unmoving. "Merle, knock'er out!" Daryl yelled. Merle was on his feet in an instant, back handing her with such force that her neck snapped to the side with a loud crack. Daryl let go of her shoulders and moved his hand up toward her collarbone worriedly. Realizing there were no breaks, he let go of her and stumbled back and away from her, unable to keep from covering his own face so he didn't have to look at her. He could hear the blood as it dripped off the table and onto the concrete floor. They were all covered in it.

Silence descended on them and Daryl backed away toward the exit. He had to get out of there. He had to leave. His palms hit gravel as he emptied his stomach on the ground near the fence.

"Daryl," Maggie asked, cautiously. He couldn't look at her. "Tell Hershel I'll be out here if he needs me."

* * *

Julie opened her eyes and looked around her. The ceiling was gray, like in her cell, but somehow, she just knew it wasn't her cell. There was whispering going on somewhere nearby. She focused on the throbbing in her right side, the source of the pain radiating through out her entire body. She pulled back the blankets nd studied the bloody bandage wrapped around her midsection.

_I think I been shot. Again_. "Huh," she let her head fall back on her pillow and let herself drift back into unconsciousness.

The darkness was starting to get unnerving, even with the streetlight as they passed over the car faster and faster. She wanted her mother. Her mother wouldn't have let her father take her like this. Julie would be home in bed and sound asleep. But her mother had had to work a double shift. She'd tried hiding in the closet, but he'd found her and now she was sitting in the back of the car trying to keep from crying. There was a loud crack and the sky lit up for only a moment as lightning ripped across the sky and the went swerving. Julie couldn't stop herself from crying out for her mother as she heard the glass shatter and she was thrown forward, landing on the bottle that had flown from her father's hand as he'd held it up to his mouth when they'd swerved and spun out on the road.

The blood was so red and there was so much of it covering stomach and it hurt so much more than any skinned knee, stubbed toe, or sprained ankle she'd ever had. It was getting into her eyes and causing them to burn. Where was her Daddy?

Julie opened her eyes to look around and had to blink several times when she realized who was sitting next to her.

"Hey, she's awake, Daddy, she's awake." Beth's teary face swam in front of her eyes. She grabbed ahold of Julie's hand and squeezed it. Julie tried to smile, but she wasn't quite sure she'd managed.

It hurt still, her body shivered from the pain, but she could feel, which was good. She heard footsteps and looked over to the doorway of the cell she was laid up in. Daryl Dixon was standing in the doorway, head resting against the edge and if she wasn't mistaken, he looked relieved. "I'll go tell Merle she's up."

He tossed her one final look before he left the cell, looking a lot less friendly than he had a moment ago. Beth gave Julie a smile as her father came into the cell. She leaned over Julie. "I need to change your dressing. I'm going to have Beth help me. Is that okay with you?"

Julie nodded her head reluctantly and grabbed onto Beth's hand. Beth leaned forward toward her, gripping her hand back. "Daddy, have Carol do it. Don't touch her anymore, please."

"Okay." Hershel disappeared and Beth rubbed her hand in her own. "It's okay. You're okay now. Everything's okay."

Julie kept her eyes shut the entire time, even though she couldn't stop shaking, she lay as still as possible as Carol gently cleaned and dressed her wound. Beth stayed with her until she fell back asleep. When she woke up, Merle was sitting beside her, head bent down as he slept in his chair.

"Merle," she whispered, shaking the hand he'd clasped around her own. He lurched forward as he awoke with a start. His eyes locked with hers and she grinned tiredly. "Hey."

For a moment, all Merle could do was nod. He continued to nodded as if he had no control over his actions and Julie frowned with worry. "Merle?"

"You almost got yourself kill again, you know that," he asked in his raspy voice. He sound furious, but his voice was uncharacteristically shaky. She looked up at him solemnly. "I didn't mean to. How'd I get shot?"

"Governor, showed up to say hello. Think he was aiming for the baby."

"What?" That was horrific for words. Julie's mouth set in a grim line. "How can someone be so cruel. I don't like babies, but I wouldn't go 'round killin' 'em."

"Don't think many people would."

She broke the long silence that followed softly, "They're gonna wanna kill him. You know what'll happen when he's gone."

"Three of us'll be gone by then."

"We have to tell them. We can't just leave and not warn them. And Daryl's not going to leave them. They're his people, Merle," she argued, "he cares about them. They're his family, too. He won't say it, but they are."

"Seem t'know an awful 'lot about my baby brother," Merle said nonchalantly, but she heard the underlying question. Julie shook her head. "It's just what I've observed. "They're all very protective of each other. The next time we leave, he'll let us and he won't follow. You know this. We have to say something."

"They'll wanna know how it is you know all this," Merle warned, "been coverin' up this mess 'fer months an' I don't know if they'd handle it any better than he did. Hell I didn't even tell him the half.

"Think you can handle this."

She fell back into her pillow and shook her head. "You know I can't. Still upset about my damn dog."

Merle chuckled. "You need ta figure out your priorities, Peaches."

"What I need is sleep," she muttered, rolling her eyes at him, "I liked that dog, you jackass."

"An' I'm sure some hungry ol' biter liked him real well, too."

"You're an asshole."

"Go to sleep, Girl."


	6. Chapter 6

**I own only the characters I created. Thanks to everyone who has been reading. Enjoy and Review.**

* * *

Now they were really treating her like a porcelain doll. And the staring was worse. And now Daryl was doing it. Except he stared at her like she was a horrifying train wreck he couldn't look away from that may or may not slaughter them all in their sleep. And he kept bringing her food. She was pretty sure it was poisoned. Until Merle finished it off for her and then she was disappointed.

Merle hadn't looked at her for three days after their conversation once she'd woken up. He just came in, took her uneaten food and then disappeared. Julie pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes and tried not to groan. It bothered her how much it annoyed her hurt her that he wouldn't talk to her or look at her. Instead, he sent Beth in several times to check on her or bring her things from her cell that he thought she might enjoy.

The moment he finally looked her in the eye, she crossed her arms and scowled at him full force. "Merle, I had no idea you were, such a pansy," she bit out, "Man the fuck up."

"You got shot," he stated stupidly. She looked at him as if he were deranged. "And the sky is blue. What does that have to do with you acting like more of a shithead than usual?"

"Rick's going to meet with the Governor," he said, completely ignoring her attitude. She huffed out a sigh and decided to drop the argument for the time being. "And yet you would prefer I not say anything?"

"Right now, we kill the biggest fish in the pond."

"And then we kill the other fish in the pond?"

"No, we move to a different pond, you dumbass."

"Rick's not going to go for that." They stared at each other intently and then Merle finally replied, "That ain't our problem."

"But I told you, Daryl won't go with us-"

"That ain't our problem either!"

Julie's eyebrows rose clear into her hairline at the declaration. "You don't mean that," she breathed out finally, shock evident in her voice. She rubbed at her hazel eyes once more. "I mean, you can't just-"

"You got shot," he bellowed loudly, his enraged voice echoing through the cellblock. All noise within earshot stopped before slowly picking up again. He shifted uncomfortably under her curious gaze. "What does that possibly have to do with leaving your brother here?"

"We can't stay here, we both know that." His voice was calm and she didn't understand why he wouldn't answer her question. Nothing he was doing or saying made sense and it was beginning to scare her.

"I don't understand this," she whispered heatedly, "this could get them all killed. You _know_ this!"

"Little D can take care of himself," Merle assured her, rubbing his knee with the palm of his hand. She'd noticed some time ago that he tended to do it when he was uncomfortable with something they were talking about. Just like he tend to curl up with his back to her while he slept on the edge of the bed even though he had refused to go back to the couch because he could deal with her screaming less than he could with her being in his personal space. "They ain't gonna listen to me. They think they still got a shot at killin' the Governor."

"They saved my life, Merle," she said finally, "just like you did. Your brother caught me an' brought me in here. He held me down so Beth's Dad could operate. Beth sat on my legs. They gave me their blood. They saved my life. Just like you did. And you're telling me to forget that."

He couldn't look at her and Julie soon realized that her face was wet and her throat was getting scratchy because she was crying. "I know you want me to forget it, but I can't. I can't. They won't make it. And that will be on us. Because we will have just abandoned them when we could have done something-"

"Julie-"

"No," she snapped back. "You told me I'm a fighter so that's what I'm doing. I'm fighting. I'm fighting you on this. I will fight you on this until you do something about it instead of running because it's hard. We run when it's hard. We run because, yeah, we should, but they're Daryl's family, and Daryl is your family, so that makes him my family. That makes them our family and we don't have to like it, but we have to fight for this family because this family fights for each other and-" She covered her face with her hands and let her head fall to her pillow. "They gave me more time. I get more time to put up with your shit. So, _I will stay. We are staying_."

"He'll kill us. Torture us maybe," Merle warned. He was still rubbing his knee, staring off past the open cell door at something she couldn't see.

She chuckled darkly. "It's better than any other way, don't you think?"

"Julie," Merle started, suddenly piercing her with his blue eyes. It made her breath catch in her throat. She swallowed thickly. "What, Dixon?"

They continued to stare at each other until Merle finally put a hand on her shoulder and then left the cell. "You should rest."

Julie didn't really understand the feeling of disappointment that swept through her at that simple statement or why he seemed so resigned. Julie felt like crying again and she couldn't stop herself. She couldn't remember the last time she had cried like that, sobbing quietly as she bit her lip until she had to cover her mouth with hand, her body shaking so hard it caused pain to shoot up from her gunshot wound.

She felt the shadow that fell across the doorway rather than saw it and refused to look up.

"So, you're stayin', then." It was a statement rather than question and Julie continued to look away from him. She didn't owe Daryl Dixon any explanations. She didn't owe anyone any explanations. Just because he had helped save her life didn't mean she was going to start talking to him.

"Name's Julie, huh." Julie's body tensed and her hands curled into the blanket covering her thin frame. He was baiting her. Daryl Dixon always had an angle, just like his older brother. He just didn't realize it. There were a tense few minutes of silence where he continued to scrutinize her and she continued to ignore it. "It suits you," he mumbled out. She slowly turned her head toward him. He was hovering over the side of the bed staring at her while he chewed on his thumb. She fought the urge to look down at her own mangled nail beds.

She nodded her thanks slowly, as if he were a deer and she was afraid she'd startle him. This was the first time Daryl Dixon had done anything other than insult her and she figured she could afford him the courtesy of not completely antagonizing him over this little show affection. Because that's what it was. He was telling her she was now truly a part of the group he considered family whether the others accepted it or not.

The blonde tried not to show her surprise when he slumped down in Merle's chair and covered his face with his hands. "Just one fuckin' thing after 'nother," he muttered to himself as he scrubbed his face and then stretched his arms over his head causing his biceps to bulge in a way that made her feel as though the room was too small. Her shoulder blades started to get that itch again. This time, it spread down into her legs until her calves tingled. She frowned at the sensation and focused in on the corner of the cell right passed his shoulder as she rubbed her legs against the course fabric they were cocooned in.

Julie felt her body practically melt into the pillow with relief when she saw Carol appear in the doorway. Daryl rose to his feet awkwardly. Carol patted the stack of gauze in her hands. "Time to take a look at your side."

Daryl shuffled out of the cell and the older woman watched him with an amused expression. "Seems you have an admirer."

Julie snorted at that. _When pigs fly and Roamers go vegan_. Carol shifted her look to the prone girl before her and pulled back the blankets. "I've known the Dixons a long time. They're not the most vocal and when they are, it's not exactly appropriate." Julie watched her as she gently pulled the bandage away from her side and rolled toward the woman to give her better access. She couldn't help but flinch at the pull the motion gave her stitches.

"But Daryl's the more eloquent of the two," Carol continued as she wiped at the affected area to clean it, "he's a good one. A real good one. And it seems like Merle is, too." She leveled her best penetrating gaze on Julie and Julie watched her back. Julie tamped down her surprise when the older woman brushed Julie's hair out of her eyes. "you remind me of my daughter."

Julie watched intently at the gentle way Carol laid the square of gauze over her tender flesh, smoothing the tape down with a touch softer than a feather. "She was a quiet girl, too. Blonde hair. Too innocent for this world by far." She looked up at Julie, but it was clear the woman was looking straight through her as she remembered the child she had lost. "I think maybe if she'd lived long enough, she'd be a little bit more like you. Soft on the outside and hard on the inside." She smoothed a finger back over the edge of the tape one last time before pulling the blanket back up over Julie. "It's just uncanny."

She gave Julie a watery smile that the younger woman couldn't return and exited the cell. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

Julie had pissed Hershel off well and good. Not to mention Merle, but he'd caved under her hard stare and finally just carried her into the mess, which had caused Glenn and Maggie to watch them like they were some sort of sideshow. Rick had watched openmouthed. Hershel had huffed in his cell.

Julie had calmly ignored Merle as he continued to berate her for her stupidity while she slowly devoured a bowl of chicken soup. Merle was yelling so loud Judith had begun to whimper. Beth soothed as best she could, watching in open fascination.

"Y'know, this is why ya almost died in th'first place," he snarled as he jabbed a finger in her direction. She merely spooned another mouthful of soup in her mouth. "Ya know, bullet wounds' is some serious shit an' you think I'm just gonna carry you 'round like some fuckin' butler? Like you actin' like the fuckin' queen of the beehive is just ev'rday shit I have to put up with? You ain't nothin' special. You're just some broad too stupid to pay attention to what's goin' on around'er. Got your head too far up your ass like every other woman in th'world."

She looked up at him for a moment and spooned the last of her soup in her mouth. His scowl deepened and she couldn't help it any longer. She reached up and gave his cheek an affectionate slap. He slammed both hands on the table. _God, I love pissing him off_, she couldn't stop from grinning now. _This is better than TV ever was._

He pushed himself away from the table. "I am sick an' tired of putting up with your shit. Daryl came back because he got sick of havin' you follow us like a little los' puppy. A _stupid_ los' puppy! I stupid _ugly_ los' puppy." Julie slowly turned her body toward him and listened as he continued to yell at her. "Got tired of feedin' ya. I'm tired of feedin' ya an' fuckin' pamperin' ya. Makin' sure you don't get too bent outta shape over the dumbest shit possible. Can't even be alone for ten minutes-"

He stopped in the middle of his rant to pick her up bridal style and Julie couldn't help the smug smirk that crossed her face. "'Spose you think I'll paint yer damn toenails now, right? Maybe shave your fuckin' legs for you? How 'bout I change your fuckin' tampon while I'm at it?!"

Julie wrapped her arms around his neck and bit her lip to keep from laughing. "I'm a Goddamn nursemaid. A fuckin' nursemaid! You think I'm gonna run around after you when you tear your side open again? No, I'm gonna stand there and laugh at you while you bleed out all over yerself an' leave a big mess for ev'rbody t'clean up like the dumb bitch you are. Now, I'm gonna put you back in your fuckin' bed an' you are gonna stay there or I will shoot you in your fuckin' face!"

He stormed back into her cell with her and despite the venom in his voice, placed her back on the bed as gently as possible. Then he pulled the blanket up to her hip. Julie propped her head up on one hand and watched him as he gently pulled the bandage away from her skin. "I told you I wouldn't pull any stitches."

"Yeah, thanks to me," he replied darkly, "this kinda shit gets you killed, Peaches. What if this place got overrun? How'm I supposed to get you out and keep you from gettin' bit if I have to carry you? Can't be laid up in bed for weeks at a time and getting shot in the gut takes a while to heal."

"I know," she sighed out guiltily, the acrid taste of bile filling her mouth. The thought of Merle getting more than a chunk taken out of him because he was too busy trying to save her made her stomach turn. A world without Merle Dixon seemed...empty. She reached over and grabbed onto his hand, stilling his movements.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. "Wasn't thinkin'. Just wanted out of this room for longer than it takes to pee an' I just forgot that this isn't like Woodbury or before. I feel trapped here. Can't shake that as hard as I try." She gave his hand a firm squeeze. "I _am_ trying, Merle."

He fell into the chair and some of the tension drained from his large frame. Seeing him more calm brought a small smile to her face. "You know I just do most of this to get at you. It's the only kind of fun I'm allowed nowadays." He snorted at the confession and rolled his eyes as he propped his feet up on the edge of the bed. Her eyes danced with laughter. "Pissing you off is the most fun I've had, like, ever." She gave him a sidelong look as she rolled onto her back and put her arms behind her head. "I didn't do fun before we met. Never. I was allergic to it, which seems stupid now. I mean, think of all the awesomely fun things I could have been doing. Like go to the drive-thru or cow tipping, get drunk at the lake, go to prom. I should've gone to Gettysburg. An' the Grand Canyon."

Merle studied her profile. "That really how you get your rocks off?"

Julie turned and blinked incredulously. "That's what you got out of that?"

He smirked and shrugged his shoulders and she smiled.

* * *

The stitches had finally come out, but her skin was still tight and it was uncomfortable when it pulled. But Merle and Carol had stopped treating her with kid gloves. Beth was back to following her around, which she wasn't too thrilled with. Daryl had been avoiding her, which she was very pleased with. Carl kept staring at her instead, which was weird. She'd never had to deal with pre-teen boys staring at her.

Glenn had resumed his usual habit of glaring daggers at Merle while Maggie quietly seethed somewhere not far off. Rick contented himself to playing mediator and Hershel...disapproved. He spent a lot of time shaking his head at the two of them.

Merle and Julie were sitting outside in the guard tower. Rick had gone out for his little meeting with the Governor. He had tasked the two of them with babysitting Michonne, which neither minded because she kept her trap shut. She had been staring out at the Roamers pushing against the outer fencing for over an hour while Merle stabbed the desk with his knife and Julie flicked through one of Carl's comic books.

"This comic is-was worth a ton of money," Julie said absently. It didn't register when the split of metal into wood stopped or Michonne swiveled around sharply to look at her.

"I mean, I was never into comics, but there was this kid at my school. Loved the hell outta these things," she murmured as she read on. Feeling eyes on her, she looked up to find the two of them staring at her when it finally dawned on her and she gave Michonne a hard look. "Oh, yeah, I talk. Don't tell anyone or I'll let him cut your throat in your sleep."

The dark-skinned lady raised an eyebrow in challenge and Julie raised one in return. "I ain't afraid of you."

Michonne squinted her dislike and Julie snorted before rolling her eyes. "I feel like I'm detention."

They both turned to look at her again and she flipped the comic closed before shrugging. "We've been exiled to the guard tower for basically being the kids in the back of the class who get shit started. So we get punished by being sent to do the shit work nobody wants to do, away from all the other good little boys an' girls. We're in detention. Merle's Judd Nelson, you're Ally Sheedy," she sighed, giving Michonne annoyed look, "which means I get to be Molly Ringwald. The prom Queen. Should've kept my fuckin' mouth shut then I could be Ally Sheedy."

Julie picked the comic book back up and opened it to where she left off as Michonne turned back to look out the window.

"Who the _fuck_ is Judd Nelson?!"

Michonne suddenly burst into a fit of laughter and Julie grinned. "Nevermind. I get to be Ally."

"Like hell you do."

"Anybody wanna play cards?"

"No."

"Yes."

"Julie, just fuckin' play," Merle whined, "why do you have to be so damn difficult?"

"Because I don't like you."

"You love the fuck outta me, now play cards."

She lowered the comic once again and gave him a look. "I don't love you at all. You're an asshole and I hate you. A lot." She tossed the comic back down as Merle pulled a pack of cards out of his back pocket. She pulled a face as she tied her hair up. "Oh, great. We get to play cards with a deck covered in your ass sweat."

"Like you don't have swamp ass right now, Princess."

"I'm not tryin' to rub it all over other people," she grumbled as he shuffled and gave her his own loaded look. She shifted in her seat angrily. "I don't want to be covered in ass sweat. It's bad enough we spend a majority of our time covered in Roamer guts-"

"You are such a whiny bitch today," Merle snapped. She scoffed and slammed her hand down on the table as she swiped up the cards he had dealt to her. "I am a whiny bitch everyday. You are just so blinded by my good looks that you never noticed until now."

"You guys always flirt this much," Michonne asked. Julie's mouth shut with an audible snap and Merle shot out of his chair so quickly, Michonne wondered if something hadn't bitten him on the ass. "Gotta piss," he mumbled as he stalked toward the stairs and bolted down.

"That wasn't flirting," Julie stammered, "that was...that's how we just deal with each other. On a good day. But thanks to you, it's a shitty day an' now I'm gonna have to deal with him moping 'round like a fuckin' baby."

"Mmhm," Michonne hummed out as she studied her cards. "You're right. This is just like high school. And you're definitely Molly Ringwald."

* * *

It was really starting to get to Daryl again. The way she had hung off his brother before was nothing compared to watching them tiptoe around each other. Something had happened. Rick had to put all three of them in the guard tower together while Glenn and Maggie walked the fence waiting for Rick to get back and now Julie and Merle couldn't stand being in the same room with one another for more than five seconds.

She somehow stomped on Michonne's foot by accident and the older woman hadn't looked too happy with her. Except when she smirked at the way the two kept running off from each other. Children. Rick and Daryl were dealing with children. Carl and Beth were more mature than his brother and that stupid girl. Julie. Now she barely came out of the guard tower and Merle was becoming more like is old self and that bothered Daryl even more.

And of course they had the worst timing. Rick was considering what had happened in that damn meeting, whatever it was. It had to be bad the way Rick was breaking down over it. Daryl could see it. He'd felt like that on more than one occasion. Daryl leaned against the building casually as he puffed on a cigarette. He was running low and it had crossed his mind that it might be in his best interest to go pat down the Walker bodies along the fencing that had been cleared out pretty soon. They had had too much of a herd in several days. Now would be the time, if ever. Cigarettes were definitely the one luxury from before that he missed.

He was only half interested as Carol tried in vain to rope Julie into conversation. While it was clear the girl was listening, she was clearly agitated. She kept looking around as if searching for something. It took him a bit to figure out he hadn't caught sight of Merle in quite awhile. And the dark-skinned woman was MIA as well.

Maybe Rick forced her out when nobody was lookin', Daryl mused silently as he watched the blonde twist up a pair of soaked jeans, wringing the excess water out into the wash bin she was crouched over. Carol watching her with an overly fond expression. He scowled at it. Carol had no business fawning over the girl. He'd heard her talking to Julie while she had been laid up. She'd talked about Sophia. A lot. Carol never talked about Sophia.

It hadn't taken him long to figure out most of the group's occupants had begun using the silent girl as a sounding board, assuming that because she didn't talk to them, she didn't talk at all. But he'd been smart enough to pick up on the fact that his brother knew far too much about the girl for her to have been completely mute. How could he have known she had a sister?

Then again, maybe it was just wishful thinking on the group's part. There wasn't a preacher for them to confess to, so who could they unburden themselves on? When Daryl truly thought about it, it was kind of unfair to expect that girl to just put up with that. She'd obviously been through enough and there was no point with saddling her with more. She didn't need to know how horrible they'd had it. She wasn't going around whinging about all the horrible things she'd gone through. They needed to afford her the same courtesy.

Sometime during his self-monologue, he'd tossed down the cigarette, burned down to the filter, stomped it out and started over to the two women without a thought to it. Carol was laughing at something she'd told Julie and Julie gave her a small smile in return. He paused to watch as Julie scrubbed soap into a blood stain in a dark shirt. She held it up to the light, scowling as she surveyed the damage. The sleeves were cut off; it was his shirt. For some reason he didn't quite understand, watching her scrub at a walker blood stain on his shirt made his body burn. It felt like embarrassment but not quite. It made him feel uncomfortable in a way he hadn't experienced before. He didn't like it one bit.

He shifted his attention to Carol and his discomfort level rose when he realized she was studying him with a knowing look on her face that was sympathetic in a way that was disconcerting. That made him even more nervous. He gnawed on his thumb nail for a few moments as he and Carol stared at one another. He still didn't know why he had come over to them.

"You seen your brother," Carol asked. Daryl shrugged shifting his weight from foot to foot, "Probably look for some shit to snort somewhere in offices. Who the fuck knows."

He let his eyes dart to Julie momentarily. Her shoulders seemed a bit tense now that she was aware of his presence, but other than that, she kept her eyes trained on his shirt as she scrubbed. The stain looked a bit better. However, he thought it was a loss cause. Another one would just replace it. It didn't take long for their clothes to turn into dingy rags. Not that he'd ever had clothes that were in decent condition.

"Don't even bother, honey," Carol sighed to Julie as if reading his mind and the two women frowned at each other. "Not like any of us have anyone to impress, "Carol joked, smiling. Julie snorted and then dunked the shirt in the rinse bucket and then wrung the water out of it. Carol went back to hanging clothes on the lines they'd strung across the courtyard.

"Been awful quiet," Daryl observed. Carol gave him a smile full of amusement, "It's always quiet."

"Not like this," Daryl replied with a shake of his head. "Shit's headed our way when it's quiet like this. Rick's all turned aroun' in his head. You seen it."

He noticed Julie nod out of the corner of his eye. He had to admit, the girl had good instincts.

"When are things not coming down on our heads," Carol muttered, sounding every bit as annoyed as he felt. "It never stops. We get a few days to rest just enough and then all hell breaks loose. I don't even know why we're so surprised anymore. It's been long enough that we should expect it."

"Still," Daryl said, looking out over their claimed territory. They needed more time at the prison. They needed this. He knew it and so did Carol. Their group couldn't leave just yet. "Things ain't gonna go down like they did at the farm. Not gonna just be a bunch of mindless Walkers comin' at us."

"Way the world is now..."

"People was messed up before. Imagine how much more fucked up they are now," he bit out, watching Julie from the corner of his eye as her face scrunched up. Whatever she was thinking of, it wasn't pleasant and he had a fairly good inkling of what it was. Instead she was glowering at his balled up shirt in her pruned fingers as she squeezed the water out of it with all her might. She looked so small and helpless just then, which he thought seemed strange considering she was only a few inches shorter than him and she fiddled with that machete she carried around with her enough that he knew she was uncomfortable without it. It said an awful lot about you when your security blanket was a machete.

Julie stood finally and handed the shirt over to Carol, who added it to the line without a word. And then the blonde was back to squatting as she tossed another shirt in the sudsy wash bin. It looked like one of Beth's and it bothered him that he spent so much time with everyone that he knew what all clothing they owned. He reasoned that they didn't have much so it was hard not to memorize. It seemed like Rick wore the same damn shirt day in and day out, though.

Julie stood up abruptly and rubbed at her side, leaning to her left. Her side was bothering her again. Daryl turned on his heel with a mumbled, "Gonna go find Merle. Gone long enough I know he's gotten into some sort of shit."

She didn't bother to glance at his retreating form even though she was tempted. That annoyed her. Her need to follow him with her eyes, to keep tabs on him. At first it had been because he was a possible threat. He was the only real threat in the group besides Michonne and it had only been logical to want to keep him in her sights at all times. However, he was no longer a threat now and it bothered her that she still continued to watch him whenever he was nearby. Especially, considering they were hardly ever in any real danger.

Maybe it was because she'd gone a little soft on him since he'd found out she could talk, but hadn't run off and run his mouth to Rick like any of the others would have. She studied Carol as she continued to hang up the damp clothing. She wasn't sure whether Carol would narc on her or not. Carol had taken to her easily, but Carol's loyalty lay with the group. She squinted slightly as she thought it over. _She'd probably tell Daryl, which would be pointless_, she thought wryly. At least the Dixons could keep a secret if need be. She tilted her head a bit to study Carol.

Carol looked like the stereotypical stay-at-home-Mom. Her clothes were dowdy, her nerves seemed shot, she was obviously tired beyond belief, she fussed over everyone needlessly, and she was almost always positive, though that had become less and less usual. Everyone's spirits had been taking a steady nose-dive, though. Carol wouldn't be any different.

The sound of boots thudding on concrete heavily brought her out of her thought and she turned halfway around coming nose to chin the younger Dixon brother. His blue eyes were stormier than usual. "Can't find Merle," he said quietly, but she could hear the undercurrent of panic in his voice and it transferred to her immediately, bursting through her chest like wildfire.

"What do you mean you can't find Merle," Carol asked, vocalizing the question on Julie's tongue. Julie suddenly felt sick. Merle had been acting funny all day. First, he'd refused to leave her alone the entire morning. Then he'd been irate with her for no reason at all and then he'd gotten quiet. Eventually, he'd completely vanished. That had been the only normal thing he had done all day. She was used to Merle taking off and coming back in his own time. But the pit of terror blossoming in her stomach at Daryl's discovery was sending her into a tailspin. They continued to stare at one another and it occurred to her for only a moment that they were having a conversation silently. All she could focus on was that Daryl felt it, too. Something had gone horribly wrong. And Merle wasn't there to let her know it would work out.

She reached out blindly for support. Merle was absent and so she settled for the next best thing: Daryl. She gripped his forearm like a vice and let her fingernails dig into his flesh as her chest heaved with every panicked breath she sucked in.

"I'm sure he's around here somewhere," Carol tried to soothe even as her voice wavered uncertainly and Julie shook her head frantically.

"Girl's right," Daryl snapped, "he ain't here."

"Well, before we panic, why don't we go find Rick and see if he knows where Merle is," Carol suggested as she sense the tension ratchet up another notch. Julie wasn't completely sure she was still in her own body or that what she was experiencing reality. She had been considering the notion of what life would be like if she was every separated and couldn't think of how she would react or what she would do once that day arrived. Her assumptions had been correct. The day had arrived and she was at a complete loss as to how she was supposed to function. Everything just felt lost. It was all so very wrong.

Carol took her firmly by the shoulders and pulled her away from Daryl slowly. Where Julie's panic had continued to mount, Daryl's agitation had boiled over into determination the longer he watched her fall apart before his very eyes. It was like watching an earthquake level a city. Everything was suddenly gone and replaced with utter devastation. And it struck him just then what the relationship between Merle and Julie was. Without Merle, Julie was nothing more than a lost, scared little girl. And without Julie, Merle couldn't find true North. They needed each other in the same way he and Merle had once needed one another. But they had outgrown that aspect of their relationship.

But she needed Merle and Daryl needed his brother to live if only for that reason. Maybe because it meant that Merle was still alive and kicking.

"We'll find him," he assured her, his voice resolute and Julie homed in on the resolve flashing in his eyes. She watched him over her shoulder as Carol slowly pulled her away, letting the weight of that look anchor her. She knew he would find him. Daryl never went back on his word, that much had always been clear. He would find Merle and he would bring him back to her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you for the favorites and Follows. I really appreciate it. I own nothing but the characters I've created. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please leave a review.**

* * *

There was a lot of talking. A lot of whispering. Merle was gone. Michonne was gone. Daryl was gone. And she couldn't move. She had been sitting on her bed in her cell for what had to be hours and she couldn't move. Carol was with her, holding her limp hand, trying to get her to just look up for one second to let the older woman know she could hear her. But she couldn't. Julie couldn't hear a damn thing she was saying and she didn't want to hear any of it regardless.

She wanted to hear Merle's voice. Or even Daryl's voice if it meant he was going to tell her he had found Merle and then lead her to him. So, why in the fucked mess of a world they lived in could she not have that? It seemed so simple and so easy and it angered her so much how much she had taken for granted the sound of Merle's harsh, rasping voice. She wondered if it was punishment for telling him a thousand times over that she just wanted him to shut up and never talk to her again. She hadn't meant it. She never meant it. It was just that that was Merle and that was how you had to communicate with him. She got that. Why couldn't the universe get that? It had created him, created the force that brought them together. How had being in the wrong place at the wrong time brought them together like that?

How had something so horrible and scarring landed her with someone who just got her? There had to be some reason. And her life couldn't be that cruel that it would just take away yet another good thing from her without explanation. It wouldn't just ruin her like this again. Her mother, the wreck, her sister, Jason, the woods. Too much for her twenty-one years. The weight of it all was back-breaking and he had made it bearable.

The longer they waited, the more she curled into herself. The pit in her stomach had become a black hole.

"Michonne and Rick are back," she distantly heard Maggie's voice. She let Carol pull her up to stand and she followed sedately as she was pulled outside. As she watched the car pull in through the gates, she felt herself gain the smallest bit of control back and she started toward the car on her own, pulling out of Carol's grip. She waited as the car pulled to a stop. Rick refused to look at her when he exited the driver's side, but Michonne's eyes hit her head on. They were hard and expressionless. She hadn't expected anything less.

The woman approached her slowly and held her hand out toward her. Julie lifted her hand on instinct to catch whatever it was Michonne dropped into her palm and felt her world drop away for the second time. "Told me to give these to his girl," Michonne said quietly, and though her tone was unyielding she could still hear the apology hidden within. Julie nodded without really realizing she was as she curled her hand around the metal in her hand and then opened it. She looked down and it took a good long while for it to register in her mind what she was looking at. His dog tags. He'd given her his dog tags.

She bit her lip as she clutched them in her hand once more and slid down to sit in the gravel, arms wrapped around her knees. She focused her eyes on the gate, refusing to let her eyes water or acknowledge the dog tags in her hand. She wouldn't cry and she wouldn't recognize the dog tags for what they were. A goodbye. No. She would wait for Daryl. Daryl promised. And Daryl kept his promises. So she would wait. However long it took.

The sun beat down on her through her silent vigil. Someone set a water bottle down beside her and stood off somewhere close by behind her. But she was too focused for it to bother her. Somehow she knew that everyone was outside watching her from the safety of the inner courtyard, crowded around the guard tower. She didn't care what they thought-if they pitied her. She waited.

Walkers had started to congregate in front of the gate and push inward toward her. Maggie and Glenn and Michonne came out to clear them away. Someone put a hand on her shoulder to try and coax her back inside the safety of the inner courtyard. She didn't even bother shrugging them off. Daryl still wasn't back yet. She continued to wait.

And then Daryl came back. Daryl came back alone. She was on her feet shaking her head vigorously as she backed a few steps away from him. It whipped back and forth with such force that her neck cracked like thunder in her ears. She let herself cry then. "No," she wailed then, shoving him in the chest. "You promised me," she moaned brokenly and she beat him. She couldn't look him in the eye because she had seen how much it hurt him. "Jules," he croaked, "I couldn't let you see him like that. I couldn't hardly see him like that."

"No," she managed to snarl, refusing to let the underlying meaning of his words penetrate her grief-stricken mind as she tried to bolt past him for the gate. She'd climb the damn thing to get to him if she had to. But the man next in front of her caught her around the middle, drawing her back up against his chest and pinned her there as she kicked out and thrashed. Julie clawed at his arm like a wild animal and Daryl took it silently as he tried to haul her back and keep his hold on her at the same time. Julie thrashed even harder, "Lemme go, Daryl! I have to go. I have to go to him."

"No," he yelled back, "he's dead, girl. Ain't nobody for you to go to."

She twisted halfway and slapped him. "Don't you say that! Don't-" He caught her hand as she drew back to strike him again, throwing them off balance and knocking them both to the dirt. Somehow, the fall managed to bring her back to her senses enough to finally understand completely and the fight drained out of her as she cried and she let her head fall against his chest as she sobbed. Daryl dropped her arm and cradled the back of her head in his hand, holding her against him. It didn't help him to know someone was just as broken by Merle's death as he was. It made it more real. It made it hurt more. It made him angrier at the mess the world had left him in. The mess Merle had left him in. Had left her in.

Julie was only sniffling eventually, the sun was hanging much lower in the sky than it had been when Daryl had returned. She turned her head just enough to lay her ear flat against the middle of his chest and listened to his heart thrum in his chest as it pumped blood through his body rhythmically. It was the same blood that had pumped through Merle's veins and that thought made her feel both desperately alone and at peace all at once. She brought up a shaky hand and wiped the tear stains from her face before heaving out a great sigh.

"You done," Daryl asked lowly and she nodded against him. She let him pull her up and slowly disentangled herself from him, letting the understanding that she was alone once more settle around her and set her apart from him and the others. Daryl didn't look at her as they returned to the others, but she knew he could see the moment she separated from them both physically and emotionally. Whatever progress had been made since she and Merle had arrived at the prison had been erased and would remain absent until she was done grieving.

Julie neither looked nor spoke to anyone as she retreated to Merle's cell. She pulled the door shut and took up residence on his bed. She stayed there, unmoving until Governor returned. And then, she woke up.

* * *

She didn't go back with them to Woodbury. She could have gone out on her own because she knew the way, but she wasn't ready to step into the familiar space that she had shared with Merle for the entirety of her stay in that horrid town. Because as much as she hated it there, she now cherished every exasperating moment she had been with Merle. Because it had been those moments that had made her love him and it killed her to know that she hadn't realized it until Daryl had walked through the gate without him. He would never know. It was another cruel twist of the knife forever lodged in her breast.

Three and a half weeks after his death, Julie finally worked up the courage to go through his belongings. She kept all his weapons and determined that she would let Daryl have first pick. He was next of kin and it was the right thing to do. She bundled up all his clothes and the few items that were of no use. She was aware that the right thing to do would be to give them to the people who had come from Woodbury, but she felt that they didn't deserve them. She hated them. They'd turned on him in his final moments in that town. She took his belongings out to their modest graveyard and then she started digging. Nobody seemed to question her. Rick had watched her for awhile and then left her to it. He knew it was something she had to do.

She dug him a proper grave and gently dropped his belongings in and then she began to refill it. Another shovel began piling dirt back in the grave and she didn't even acknowledge the person's presence. She didn't have to. When they were done, they patted down the red dirt and she stood silently by as Daryl fixed a cross out of wood and twine and then carved his brother's name with his hunting knife before driving it into the ground at the head of the grave. And then they stood there, staring.

Nobody came to stand with them, which they were grateful for. They didn't want anyone there. This was for the three of them. Merle, Daryl, and Julie. The silence was comfortable. Merle's death had brought on a shift in their relationship that could not be reversed. They no longer struggled to tolerate each other. They'd found companionship in their shared grief that was held true by their refusal to speak on it.

Daryl nodded at her profile and sauntered off. It was dinnertime. Julie wasn't hungry. She was tired. She couldn't sleep anymore. Not without him there, his snoring breaking up the laughing in her mind, his heartbeat anchoring her to the present, the weight of his arm across her waist and his smell blanketing her and making her feel safer than she ever had. They had never slept better than when they were with one another. And it had taken them so very long just to get that far, just to take that small of a step.

Julie lowered herself to the ground and laid her head against the freshly dug mound of dirt, curling her hand around a handful in the same manner she used to curl her hand around a fistful of his shirt and it wasn't hard for her to imagine the sound of his heart booming in his chest for it sounded like any other heart. She could still recall the smell of his skin, but she couldn't relive the feel of the way it surrounded her and the memory of his snoring wasn't as loud as it was when his mouth was pressed against the top of her head with his lips buried in her hair and her side felt cold and numb without his arm draped over her.

The tears leaked out of her hazel eyes and down into the dirt and she had to suck her lower lip in between her teeth to keep from crying in earnest. Merle was dead. And he wasn't coming back.

It was dark now, and the crickets were loud enough that she could no longer hear the Roamers over them, but she was still wide awake, waiting for the memory of Merle to pull her down into him.

"You can't stay out here all night," Michonne called from above her.

"I never sleep anymore. I never..." she trailed off, unable to figure out where she was going with her words. Finally, she pushed herself up to sit and up onto her unsteady feet. The yard was empty, as was the courtyard. She followed Michonne into the cellblock, ignoring those who were still eating in the mess or socializing. Instead, she trudged toward the stairs, not even bothering to acknowledge Beth as she called a final offer of dinner to her. She ascended the stairs with heavy feet and paused in the doorway of the cell she shared with Merle. The sheet she'd hung across the doorway was pulled back and the camping lantern was lit. Daryl was sitting on the bed staring at one of Merle's knives. Julie stood and watched him until he looked up at her. There was no surprise to be seen in his expression. He'd been aware of her presence.

Her eyes narrowed as she took in the rumple sheets and blanket. He'd been laying on the bed. Daryl tensed as he followed her line of sight, remembering the way Merle had continuously complained of how much of a stickler she was for being neat and orderly. Finally, Julie took a step into the confined space of the cell, fighting her instinct to bolt out into the much more open space of the stair well and pulled the makeshift curtain shut. Daryl's brow furrowed. He had not expected this reaction and it made him feel anxious and very uncomfortable. He bit at his thumb and angled himself to face her more. She approached him slowly chewing on a digit of her own. Once she stood directly before him, she pinned him with a look and held him there. "I need you," she said in a small voice, "I need your help."

He couldn't stop from jumping at the feather light touch of her hands on his shoulders as she pushed him back to lie down on the bed, even though he'd watched with bated breath as she had slowly reached out to him. He let her guide him. He kicked off his boots and toed his socks off. He had no idea how he was supposed to act in this situation or what it was she even wanted from him. It was unprecedented, this position she'd put him in. She kicked off her own boots and socks and moved them over beside the chair in the room. He watched her with a hawk's eye as she turned away from him and pulled her flannel shirt off, leaving her in just the white tank top. She pulled on a baggy grey tee shirt that was riddled in small holes. He watched as she reached up under the back of the shirt and his ears picked up on a soft snap and then she pulled her arms back in under the shirt and out just as quickly. He gulped as she discarded another article of clothing. dropping it on the growing pile she had created on the chair. He gazed heavenward as she reached below her waist and he heard the familiar sound of fabric unzipping. Daryl felt heat begin to finally creep up his neck and into his face as he heard her shorts drop on to the chair. He'd never been so uncomfortable in his entire life. And that included the first time he'd ever walked in on Merle and girl he'd brought home from the bar.

Daryl was acutely aware of the way she stood next to the bed, finally unsure of her actions. And it reminded him of how young she was. It angered him how dirty she was making him feel for this. But he'd promised himself after he'd left Merle to return to the prison that once he got back, he would take care of Julie the way he knew his brother would have expected him to. And that meant giving her whatever she wanted just as Merle himself had done. He ignored the miniscule part of him that was brave enough to acknowledge that he did it not because of the promise he'd made to Merle but because he actually liked the girl. She'd managed to grow on him somehow. His muscles ached with renewed tension as she hesitantly crawled over him, wedging herself between him and the wall on the small mattress.

Daryl remained inhumanly still as she slowly lay down beside him, resting her head on his shoulder in an attempt to test the waters. When he didn't protest, she moved her body further into his side and pressed her head against the center of his chest. She moved again a few minutes later when she finally worked up the courage to bring her hand up to fist in his shirt and rested her knee atop his shin. Julie didn't move again after that. She was breathing in and out slowly as if she was trying to calm some part of her that was rioting, screaming at her that the man she was laying against was dangerous and she needed to fight to get away.

Daryl slowly reached over to turn off the camping lantern. He had needed something to do at that moment. Having women cuddle up to him was unknown and quite frankly terrifying territory. He had to fight to keep from shoving her away from him. They were quickly shrouded in darkness and for a while, all she could hear was the laughing. Until it was replaced with the sound of Daryl's voice in her head, hurling insults tinged with jealous. She could make due with that.

* * *

Julie woke up before him. She still couldn't sleep very well and she had slipped over him lithely. Daryl's eyes popped open blearily not long after. He was wide awake when he got an eyeful of her bottom as she pulled her shorts up over her thighs. He hurled himself into a sitting position and quickly started pulling on his boots and socks. Julie didn't look at him. They weren't going to talk about the night before. Good.

It was a new routine, though. That much was clear when the next night, which was his night for first watch, he returned to find her sitting up in bed. At the sound of his footsteps, she'd looked up and pinned him with her expectant gaze. He had stalked into her cell, pulled the curtain shut and lowered himself on the bed to pull off his boots. She was already pushed up against the wall, but she settled against him much easier this time.

This new routine flummoxed him. He'd never had anyone look to him for comfort before and he had never been aware that he could properly provide it. So, he took to watching her, trying to figure out what it was she got from him that she couldn't get from anyone else. But he didn't really see it. She interacted with the others as well as she interacted with him. Except Michonne. Sometimes, he thought he caught her speaking to Michonne when no one was looking. It bothered him on the rare occasion he was inclined to admit it did.

He was standing at the gate leading into the courtyard watching as Julie, along with Maggie and Glenn cleared the perimeter of Walkers, stabbing a crowbar through their eyes deftly as she ignored the flirtatious banter of the couple that was with her.

"Is she doing okay," Carol asked as she came to stand by him, "she took Merle's death pretty hard."

"Don't really get that," Daryl admitted, "that was some weird shit. Even for him."

"They loved each other." Carol's declaration caused him to turn his head in her direction, unsure if he'd heard her right. "The hell you get a crazy idea like that?"

Carol gave him a look. "It was obvious. Maybe not to you or them, but they did."

"Merle didn't know shit about love."

"He loved you," Carol, replied easily, "so it makes sense why he would want to protect her, too."

Daryl leaned against the fence and shot her a look. "You ain't makin' no sense."

She gave him a look of her own before she looked back over at the girl in question. "That girl is _just like you_. It's probably what saved her life."

Daryl followed her line of vision to see Maggie pat Julie on the shoulder as she took out the last walker. Julie shrugged off her hand with a scowl and stalked off, gripping the crowbar in her hand tightly as she wiped walker blood off her freehand and onto the front of her shirt without a thought to it.

"Bet you anything that when he found her the way she was, he saw you, saw a chance to make up for all the ways he'd wronged you and then the rest just kind of happened." She let out a sad sigh. "And her? I think maybe he was the only man that ever gave a damn about her and to her, that counted for something."

"She's restless," Daryl observed, wanting to change the subject. That kind of talk always made him uncomfortable. "Ain't good at bein' in one place for too long."

Carol frowned at that. "Think she'd be good for going on runs? Get her out once in a while. You don't think she'd run do you."

He shrugged and pushed off of the fencing. "I'll ask Rick. She was out on her own for a long time. Figure she'd be good at it."

"You know, I'm gonna say this one more time," Carol said softly, causing his footsteps to falter, "It's okay. To care."

Without replying, Daryl continued on his way.

* * *

Julie had been out on her own for a few hours at best. Rick had offered to let her go on a run with Glenn and Maggie, which had gone well, but her silent demeanor unnerved the couple. Surprisingly, Daryl had suggested she could go out on her own, that she was capable enough, and Rick had agreed. She got the impression that maybe Rick believed she may leave and not come back, which would be a no harm no foul if she did since it had been clear from day one that all she had ever wanted was to wander freely throughout Georgia.

She had nodded her thanks at both of them. Rick had left it to Daryl to set the parameters of the run for her. She'd get a car, a map, any weapons she might need and she would be free to roam. Seeing as they were nearing capacity on occupants and Woodbury had made them a lot more wary of people, she was expressly forbidden from returning with anyone. She had no qualms with that stipulation. She would agree to whatever terms she was given. They were giving her her freedom.

"Just make sure you're back within three day's time. We might need the car."

"If I find something better, I'll make a trade on it," she had admitted. "Bring the keys back with me so we can bring it back on a future run. More vehicles we have, the better."

Daryl nodded in return. "Just mark it down on the map if you do. If you can manage to siphon some gas, that'd be great."

While Daryl had trusted her judgment, she hadn't told him where she was going. He would have argued against it.

Woodbury had loomed over the area like a storm cloud, threatening to open up the heavens and drown them all in dark water. It was a darkness everyone wanted to put behind them, but Julie could see that it was one raincloud in a sky full of rolling black. Something was always going to be drifting toward them. They couldn't just forget.

And the people of Woodbury had become naïve and fallen back into their old lives from before. When they'd run, they'd clung to luxury instead of necessity and the people who'd brought them back hadn't expected to be carting a few dozen people back with them. They hadn't been prepared to bring back anything. They hadn't actually planned anything, when she thought of it. The plan had extended only so far as killing the Governor. There had never been a post-Governor strategy.

Julie had driven up toward Woodbury, stopping just a quarter mile up the road. She lifted the duffle of supplies Daryl had packed her and walked the rest of the way.

There was the usual amount of Roamers that had gotten in the gates, but it looked relatively untouched. However, she wasn't prepared for the amount of memories that had overcome her. It felt like they were lifting her off her feet with the intensity of them. She sat down on at the picnic table she had so often eaten her lunch at when Merle walked the wall. Where she ate dinner when they had their biweekly barbecue. Julie stared up at the high wall. She could see Martinez and Merle arguing with one another clear as day. She could see every single Woodbury resident going about there day like the ghosts they were in her mind. The town was a ghost and she was haunted by it.

She checked over the vehicles first. None were up to par save for a military grade transport truck. She pocketed the keys that were tucked up in the visor and started over to the other vehicles once more. She started by siphoning gas using the rubber tubing she had been smart enough to pack. It took her a few tries to get the first tank pull running; she hadn't siphoned gas since the very beginning when it had been safer to drive than walk.

She stored the gasoline in the gas canisters that had been stored in a small utility shed that was next to the makeshift car lot. The lot was full of regular, inconspicuous cars. They were decoy cars. Twice every month, two guards would be sent out each with their own cars in separate directions, under the guise of looking for a safe place to stay if they encountered anyone deemed a threat. If they encountered anyone who seemed non-threatening, they would take on the role of the savior, a good Samaritan offering salvation in the form of the last known foothold of civilization. It had been smart.

She lined up the canisters under a folded up table lying beside the shed and threw a tarp over it, then headed back for her car. The sounds of birds chirping and bugs buzzing left her feeling secure. Humans weren't the only animals that had become hyper-vigilant. Everything was a threat now.

She doubted that many people would be headed this way anyway, the innocent ones never lasted long in this area and the dangerous ones knew to steer clear. A strong military presence always put off those who wanted to conquer. Survival of the fittest 101 and the nefarious leader of Woodbury had known it. Rick was still learning, but it was a concept he would soon be grasping.

She was inside Woodbury and shutting the gates behind herself before sunset. She cleared the residential buildings first, the clinic second, and then the stock rooms. She encountered twenty Roamers in all. They were in bad shape with the lack of people to munch on and they'd gone down easily.

She packed the trunk full of the gas canisters and tools. They were running out of the things necessary to build. It was time to fortify and they didn't have the means to do so. They needed a fortress and instead they had a makeshift pillow fort.

She piled several pallets of canned goods in the floorboards and back seat of the car and then headed for the armory, which their group had had the forethought to pick through on their third invasion. There was enough to fill another duffle bag. And it was time to comb through the residentials.

While Hershel had put an emphasis on their need for medical supplies, weapons would always take priority, which was why her first stop was Martinez's old place.

The walls were covered in pictures of naked women torn out of Playboy magazines. There was a Scarface poster in the small kitchenette. She snorted in derision at it as she searched through drawer after drawer, turning up nothing but silverware and paused to let out a curse. "Where the fuck did you get a can-opener, you dick," she muttered to herself, shoving it in the bag she'd pulled from the floor next to the door. It had been full of matchbooks, granola bars, and a pack of menthol camels that was down to two. There had also been a pair of grooming tweezers that had boggled her mind for a moment.

Martinez's apartment was a pigsty. None of the bedding was salvageable as it didn't look as though it had ever been washed. The sink was full of molded over dishes and the cupboards were bare save for a half-eaten box of stale Lucky Charms. But he did have a stockpile of toilet paper.

It was over an hour after sunset when she finally finished packing the car. It was time to do what she had been dreading the entire trip. Each footstep beat in time with her pounding heart as she took the familiar route back toward the building that had been her home with Merle. She couldn't shake the absurd feeling that when she opened the door to their apartment he would be there, waiting for her. The anticipation was dizzying as she mounted the first and then the second staircase one step at a time.

And she stood outside their door, waiting. She almost felt she needed to knock as she held her breath and waiting, listening for any movement that might be taking place inside. Her ears were met with silence and she slowly opened the door. The familiarity of it all nearly floored her and she had to choke back a sob as his scent surrounded her. Julie threw herself backward into the hall, kicking the door shut as she went. It was too soon for her. She hadn't been ready for that. Gingerly wiping the tears from her cheeks, she staggered back don the stairs and out into the street. She would sleep out in the military truck and head out at dawn. She couldn't be there any longer.

* * *

Julie returned to the prison three hours after sunrise. She'd had to clear out more walkers that had wandered up in front of the gate during the night. When she rolled up at the gates, Rick was already out tending to the livestock and garden he was so adamant about expanding. He opened the gate for her with a nod and she pulled up to the second gate slowly. Carol and Karen were there to open the second. Karen gave her a friendly smile, but Julie was too drained emotionally to return it. She'd spent nearly the entire night staring into the side mirror of the truck. She could see the window of the apartment in the reflection and it called to her like a siren.

She cut the engine and stepped out onto shaky legs. "Didn't sleep," Carol asked her as she watched her lean back against the car. She shook her head and one shoulder came up in a tense shrug. She could feel eyes boring into her from above. She didn't have to guess to know who it was.

"This is an awful lot of fuel," Karen ventured slowly, studying her. She nodded mutely and stalked off toward the graveyard, ignoring the two women's curious stares as she went. Once she reached Merle's grave, she plopped down next to it, laying out with one leg propped up as she soaked in the ambient noises of early morning.

"I went home yesterday," she said quietly. Even if he wouldn't answer back it didn't matter. Merle was a better listener than most people had realized. She rested her head on one arms and tilted her face in his direction. "I opened the door, but I couldn't go in. Could still smell you in there. Wasn't ready." She turned her face back up to the sky and watched as a cloud that was vaguely shaped like a kidney floated by. "I'm not ready to let go of you yet. You shoulda stayed. With me."

Julie was awakened some time later by Rick kicking her boot as he meandered back up to the inner courtyard for lunch. She stood slowly, stretching as she did and dusted the red dirt from her body as she followed the former Sherriff's deputy at a small distance. As Julie entered the inner courtyard, Daryl handed off a bowl of what looked to be stew without a word and she shot him an odd look-which he ignored with ease-as she went to sit across from Beth. When Beth refused to look at her even when Julie blatantly stared at her, Julie scowled to herself and began to eat, watching as Maggie and Glenn flirted back and forth not far from her. She dropped her gaze when Maggie reached toward her husband to wipe away the bit of food at the corner of his mouth that she had spotted.

_How in the hell did they manage to find that in all of this_, she wondered bitterly to herself. She stared into her bowl, trying to ignore the easy conversations that surrounded her. It bothered her the way they all carried on as if nothing had happened. _Merle's dead and they're fucking happy, _she growled internally,_ they're fuckin' flirting and Merle's dead_. Julie forced herself to choke down the rest of her stew. She'd only had a package of saltine crackers in the last twenty-four hours, which she wished she'd save for the stew she was now ingesting.

Julie returned her gaze to the couple that had caused her loss of appetite and felt the bitterness curl into her further, turning to jealous with ease. _Even if he had lived, we never would have had that_, she admitted to herself, _Merle would never have let it happen_.

She let her gaze drift over to Daryl, who stood next to Carol as he nodded absently around the spoon in his mouth while she talked in her usual breezy manner. He pulled the spoon from his mouth in what she could only assume was an audible pop and answered in his soft-spoken way. She let her eyes flicker between the pair and let herself wonder only briefly if Daryl would ever be capable of entering into a committed relationship. She couldn't see it if she was honest with herself. While he was nowhere near as damaged as his older brother had been, he wasn't any closer to being able to enter into a proper relationship with anybody platonic or romantic in nature. It didn't take much for her to understand that Carol had become a surrogate for the mother he'd wished and dreamed he'd had. Under her care, Daryl was beginning to mature emotionally in ways he hadn't been able to when he had been maturing physically from a child into an adult. It was an odd transformation to behold.

Done with her meal and her musings, she slipped from her seat and passed the empty bowl to the woman she had been thinking on, offering a smile in thanks as she slipped from the dinnertime gathering and retreated to her cell for the first time since returning from Woodbury. Despite the nap she had inadvertently taken in the yard, she was still exhausted. Life was so much more draining than it had been a few days ago. She didn't feel as though she was fighting to survive so much as struggling.

She pulled off her boots and her socks and put them in their designated place beneath the chair and stripped off her machete and then her clothes. Someone had left a small bucket with water and a washcloth for her. Probably Carol, who she noted had taken to her the way she had taken to Daryl. Another orphan in need of love and affection. She scrubbed the grime from her face and neck, sighing at the feel of water on her skin for the first time in a long while. She squeezed the excess water out of the rag onto her shoulders, rubbing the moisture into her skin and ignoring the dark scars the dragged across her once unblemished skin. They weren't as red as they had once been, but they were still dark and in stark contrast to her lightly tanned skin. She studied her reflection in the subpar mirror that stood over the now defunct sink in the corner of the cell, lips drawn in a thin line as she noticed the way the one on her left shoulder blade managed to wrap around her back onto the outside of her bicep and trail inward nearly to her elbow. That one had almost cost her her life. The one on her right shoulder that started on the top and ended halfway down her bicep coupled with the gunshot had nearly cost her her arm. She lifted her right arm and reached back to feel the one that ran diagonal from right under the nape of her neck slanted to the right. That one had gone clean to the bone. And there were so many more.

She pulled her hand away as a stray thought entered her mind. Even if she could have had something with Merle, there would have been no way she could have been able to let him see her like that. Especially the ones that had been carved into her left hip in a sick attempt to mirror the surgical scar on the right. She let out a self-deprecating sigh and bent at said hips to wipe the dirt from her bare legs before tossing the rag into the murky bucket. She turned back toward the mirror and froze as she caught sight of Daryl, who was standing frozen on the perch at the top of the stairs, watching her from behind the thick shag of hair that was forever matted to his forehead. His expression was as guarded as hers as he studied her and she whipped around to face him. It didn't bother her that he was getting an eyeful of her bra-clad chest so long as it meant he couldn't see the scarred mess of her back. Julie cursed herself for forgetting to pull the sheet across the doorway.

Julie would forever be shy when it came to her naked body, that would never change for her. It was probably one of the millions of reasons why what had happened to her had effected her so. Previous experiences had soured her, but that one had broken her and she didn't need anyone seeing the shattered mess it had left. She yanked the sheet shut with a warning glare. Daryl wouldn't be rooming with her anymore after that. She couldn't stomach the idea of facing him again. Not after he'd gotten an eyeful of the weakness that had been branded into her skin for all eternity. And that's what it was. Anybody who ever saw her would know what had been done to her and that would be all they ever thought about.

_At least Merle had the fucking decency to turn away when I changed_, she thought angrily, as she pulled back the covers and slipped into bed. She turned off the lantern and let her anger drain the last of her energy from her body.

She awoke a few hours later, when she was finally able to unpin herself from the hands that held her trapped against the roots that dug into her already torn back and her mind finally recognized that the hyena laughter ringing in her ears was an echo from her past. She sat up in the bed and swung her legs over the side. The cool night air licked her bare skin and it caused gooseflesh to break out all over her arms and torso as it mingle with her sweat. She was shaking. Julie blindly reached for a shirt and tugged it over her head, her chagrin palpable as she realized who it belonged to when she pulled her arms through armholes devoid of sleeves. It irked her that he would so casually leave articles of his clothing around her space as if they belonged there. Especially when anyone could find them.

But that annoyance wouldn't deter her. The night terror she had endured was powerful enough to bring about a sense of humility in her she was fond of entertaining often. As her eyes adjusted further to the lack of light, she stepped gingerly out of her cell and tiptoed one cell over. She hesitated only for a moment as she slipped through the doorway and came to stand beside the bed. She hesitated for a great while at the sight of his bare back; he hadn't been expecting her. She hadn't slept next to a shirtless man in years. She considered backing out of the room, going back to her own cell to lay in bed awake and terrified of her unconscious mind, but she was so very tired.

Luckily, Daryl had rolled closer to the wall in his sleep and she maneuvered herself into the bed behind him easily. It was easier to lay with him that way. Having his back to her seemed less threatening. Her breath caught in her throat when his entire body froze as the bed dipped with her added weight. They lay frozen in place for several minutes before she finally scooted towards him. She needed to hear his heartbeat. It was the only sound that could drown them out. Julie spooned herself against him and rested her cheek against his back, listening. The second she heard the first thump, she was gone.


	8. Chapter 8

**Please review after reading. Thank you so much for sticking with the story.**

* * *

Daryl didn't like being touched. He never had, but he'd managed to tolerate it since becoming a part of the group. Everyone respected his boundaries and avoided touching him unless necessary and he appreciated that. Julie did not respect that boundary and it bothered him because she would touch him and press her body up against his at night for whatever the hell reason it was and then spend the day pretending nothing had happened. It was as if she hadn't slept curled up against his back the night before. It bothered him that now he woke up in the morning not because it was time to wake up, but because his back was suddenly noticeably cooler with her departure.

It was the fifth morning he'd woke up in a similar fashion. He could hear her standing beside the bed as she got ready for the day. He wasn't even going to acknowledge the other problem her sleeping in his bed had caused. Daryl had never been so uncomfortable in his life and so completely confused at the same time. He turned over onto his back as he felt the mattress dip when she sat down to put on her boots. She didn't even look at him as she put on her boots and stomped them against the floor.

She never said anything when she left either, which always left him a little sore at her. It was one thing to pretend that she wasn't doing what she was doing, but it was another thing entirely to impose on someone the way she did and then not show any gratitude. Unless one counted the way she sometimes offered her one of his cigarettes when they were stuck up in the guard tower while whoever was on extended duty went on break, which he didn't. He wasn't sure what he wanted her to do.

Daryl watched as she rose to her feet and left his cell without a backward glance and he tried to scrub the sleep from his eyes as he rose as well. It was just after dawn. Daryl liked to spend this time by himself. It was always quiet in the prison and he didn't have to worry about anyone coming to him asking for something-whether it be his opinion or asking if he could go hunting. It was just him and it was nice.

Rick was already awake and carting Judith around as she drank her fill of formula. He watched from the perch as Julie walked into view and handed him a bowl of oatmeal and then sat down to eat her own bowl, careful not let her fingers touch his. It was clear this aversion to physical contact still had Rick on edge, but the former police officer clearly sensed something about her that wasn't threatening and he was clinging to it. Julie didn't look at Rick as she ate. Instead, she spooned bland mouthfuls of the goop into her mouth while making a series of faces to herself while she thought whatever it was she thought about.

This clearly amused Rick because the right corner of his mouth lifted in response to outrageous expression on her face. Daryl stomped down the step and into the common area annoyed that everyone else seemed to be in a good mood but him. Julie gave him a look that was bland as the oatmeal she was choking down and then went back to staring off into space while she tapped the fingers of her left hand against the tabletop one by one as if she were counting something off in her head.

"You going huntin' today," Ricked asked as he gently pried the bottle from Judith's mouth before placing a kiss on the infants forehead. Daryl nodded as he went in search of his own food. There was a bowl of oatmeal waiting for him. He let his eyes dart over to Julie. She was still off in her own world.

"How long you think you'll be gone?"

"All day most like. Check all my snares, but with all the people we got here now, I'll need to go a bit farther out to get more," he admitted. "Lot more mouths to feed."

Rick nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe we need to start sending out more than just you. You know of anyone else who hunts?"

"You'd be better off askin' Carol," Daryl replied with a shake of his head as he sat down and started eating. "She's the one that'schummiest with all the Woodbury people."

Julie let out a sudden snort of amusement and her fingers stopped tapping. She was smirking in that weird way she had like she was in on some joke only Merle would have gotten. Remembering his brother immediately set him further off his unappetizing breakfast and he stopped eating until the feeling passed. Julie had finally polished off her bowl and was taking it to clean it.

"You could take her," Rick said slowly, as if saying it aloud would somehow help him decide whether or not it was a good idea. Julie halted in her steps and turned to give Rick an incredulous look. "I take it you can't hunt?"

She shook her head and went about her business. Daryl watched the man before him, unsure of what he had been trying to do. "What makes you think I should take her?"

"Well, she's quiet, you two seem to tolerate each other, and she hasn't cause and trouble."

"Yeah, not yet," Daryl scoffed as he started eating again. Around a spoonful of oatmeal he added. "An' we barely tolerate each other. I don' like'er none. Somethin' off about'er."

Rick nodded to himself and Daryl knew that while that meant he was agreeing with him to a degree, it also meant he was agreeing with himself more so and overruling Daryl's argument. "I think the same can be said for every one of us-well, aside from Judith, here. We've all seen an' done enough to know we've got things goin' on in the background an', you know, don't think she's quite over what happened with your brother."

Daryl had to agreed with him there. He pushed his bowl away again. "Naw, she ain't. You're right about that."

"How you holding up?"

"I'm here," was his simple answer and Rick took it for what it was. "You think you can handle her?"

"Yeah, if you're that set on me takin' her," he grumbled, deciding he was done eating. Daryl tossed his bowl in the wash bin. If he was going out hunting all day and with her he sure as shit wasn't doing any dishes. Daryl tromped outside sulkily. He didn't like the idea of having to hunt with someone. He liked going out alone. It was quiet-like in the mornings, but it gave him more of a sense of peace. He was in his element out in the wilderness alone. And he needed that.

Julie was out in the inner courtyard puffing on half of a cigarette that had obviously been snubbed out at one point to be saved for later. Her head was tilted back, eyes closed. She had looked relaxed up until his footsteps had become audible. She cracked one eye open in order to see who had approached her and her shoulder sagged with relief when she saw it was him. She held out the cigarette to him and he shook his head. She shrugged nonchalantly and continued to puff away, happy that she had it all to herself. It was entirely too clear that she had only offered it up out of politeness, which struck him as odd because she was never polite.

"Rick wants you to go hunting with me."

Julie scrunched up her face at him. "The hell for?"

So she was talking to him. Meant she was in a good mood. Daryl shrugged. "Thinks you're quiet enough that you'll be good at it."

"Just because I keep my mouth shut most of the time doesn't mean my feet are as quiet." Daryl grunted in agreement. "What he says goes. And I do need to be around more. In case something happens."

Julie pursed her lips in displeasure and Daryl scowled at her profile. _Well, that lasted all of five fuckin' seconds._

"Fine, I'll go, but I expect you all to find someone better suited eventually," she muttered, "I don't really think a machete is good for this sorta thing and I don't think I'm quite strong enough to load a piece of hardware like you crossbow."

"Yeah, and gun ammo ain't exactly easy to come by nowadays," he sighed out. She shook her head and propped her chin up in one hand as she tapped her foot on the concrete. "S'why I prefer going on runs. I'm better at finding stuff than shooting stuff."

Daryl nodded to himself and then turned away to head back to his cell. "S'go get our stuff together. Sooner we leave, the sooner we get back. We take too long, might get stuck out there."

She followed after him, tossing the cigarette butt away from herself and headed back in to her own cell. Beth was in the mess holding Judith while Rick ate and talked with Carl about their garden and the pigs they were planning on raising. Her eyes followed Daryl the from the door way up to the perch. _You are being so obvious_, Julie thought to herself, cringing inwardly for the girl who had become somewhat of a friend to her (much to Julie's chagrin), If you stare after him any harder your eyes will pop out and bounce after him. Yet from the look of it, Beth wasn't really aware of her romantic feelings toward Daryl and she thought that maybe that was a good thing. Beth seemed the type of girl who became so painfully awkward around a guy she really liked that he was bound to notice-no matter how oblivious he could be. And while she doubted Daryl had the ability to sense attraction when it was directed towards him, she would bet her life that he would pick up on Beth suddenly acting skittish around him and then it would only be a matter of time before he really figured it out.

_It's like a post-apocalyptic soap opera in this death trap_, she thought, trying not to laugh out loud. Julie merely smirked to herself as she ascended the steps and entered her cell. At least things were a lot more interesting living in the prison, even if it had a tendency to get monotonous. She settled on her bed and emptied her rucksack. If they were only planning to be gone for the day there was no need for more than half the stuff that was in it. Julie began to comb through the contents. She didn't need an extra set of clothing. She didn't need the tubing for gas siphoning, either. Nor would she be needing her Maglite. _No sense in taking this either_, she thought as she tossed a copy of _The Postman_ on top of the pile.

She packed up a pocket knife, an extra bandana, one of the revolvers she had smuggled out of Woodbury along with what was left of the ammo she had, an extra pair of socks, a whetstone, three bottles of water, two protein bars, and a bag of pretzels. As an afterthought, she threw in an ace bandage and a travel size bottle of extra-strength aspirin. Daryl met her in the doorway of her cell and they set off together.

"You heading out," Rick asked as they came down the stairs one after the other. Daryl nodded. "We'll check the snares first and then we should be back around sunset."

"Alright, be careful," Rick cautioned. Julie groaned internally as she felt Beth's eyes narrow at the two of them as they left. What had been amusing a mere half-hour ago was now annoying as hell.

"Just try to stay as quiet as possible," Daryl ordered as they left the gat of the inner courtyard, followed by Maggie and Carol, who were both as silent as she was. "Just watch what I do. You can manage that, y'might learn somethin'."

Julie couldn't stop her eyes from rolling at the jab and scowled at him out of the corner of her eye.

"Wait, why're you goin' with him," Maggie asked, nosy as ever. Julie shot her an exasperated look over her shoulder. It never ceased to amaze her how people tended to talk about her as if she hadn't the slightest clue what was being said around. Before Daryl could give his grumpy response, Carol interjected on Julie's behalf. "She can handle it. She's a quick learner."

"Sure, but she hasn't exactly been," Maggie paused, unsure of how to express what she meant in a manner that wouldn't offend. She pushed her hair behind her ears and cleared her throat as she tried to ignore the frown Carol was leveling at her. "She can handle it."

She and Daryl had both stiffened at the almost mention of Merle and as always, it left a bitter taste in her mouth and a lancing pain in her chest. Someone was always bringing it up and on the rare occasion that she managed to forget, it always stung like the slap in the face it was. She felt rather than saw Daryl sidle closer to her as they walked down the sloped drive to the gate that led out of the outer courtyard. He seemed to do that a lot; he was always offering himself up as a physical barrier between her and the world whenever something upsetting presented itself. It bothered her. She inched away from him under the pretense of being unaware of what he had done-whether he had realized what he had done or not, she didn't want to draw more attention. He was always around and it made her shoulder blades itch. This time, the itch had spread to the nape of her neck and she swiped her hair away from it, rubbing at it to try to get rid of the sensation.

Maggie and Carol opened the gate and Carol smiled her goodbye while Maggie called after them, "Be safe."

Daryl raised a hand in acknowledgement as Julie pulled her machete free of its holster and rammed it into the closest Roamer's skull. She placed her right foot firmly in its gut and shoved to propel it off the end of her blade and then carried on, casting a cursory glance toward Daryl as he shoved his hunting knife into the temple of the animated corpse that had come up on him.

"Yeah, they'll be fine," she heard Carol assure Maggie. "Don't know why I thought otherwise," the younger woman agreed and it sounded like there was an undercurrent of laughter to her words. The itch between Julie's shoulder blades grew.

* * *

"You know what that is," Daryl asked, pointing ahead of them. Julie fought the urge to sigh long-sufferingly. Daryl had become quite the chatterbox in the last half hour and she wasn't sure why, but it was unwelcome change in what had been an otherwise peaceful morning alone in the woods surrounding the prison. They'd checked all the snares and come away with four rabbits and a squirrel that Daryl had spotted.

"It's an overgrown deer trail," she answered boredly, "worn enough that it's clear it was well used up until recently. They've moved on."

"S'not good," Daryl murmured to himself as he crouched down and ran his hand over the top of the small sprouted foliage that had taken over the trail. Good job, Julie, that was the correct answer, she thought wryly. "No. It means there are more herds moving through, which means we should all be moving on, too."

"Have to bring this up with the rest of the council." Julie sighed out her nose as he ignored her warning. Everyone always ignored her warnings. She didn't know why she bothered saying anything half the time. Especially around Daryl Dixon. It was becoming abundantly clear that he had a superiority complex when it came to her. She threw him a glare and glanced around at their surroundings as he continued to study the trail.

"This one ain't been used in a long time." Julie covered her face with her hand and shook her head at him in disbelief. There was no reason for them to be crouched around a deer trail communing with nature when nature had obviously headed for the hills. "Daryl, we're looking for deer and if the deer aren't in this area, we need to move," she hissed out in a whisper. "We're already really far out and I really don't feel like lugging one all the way back to why don't we head South-"

He stood abruptly and shook his head. "No, we're heading back. This area's no good anymore. Like you said, herds are coming through here. Best if we start out again on the other side."

"Why can't we just head that way now?"

"We need to tell everybody about this. Means food's gonna be harder to come by."

Julie pursed her lips in thought. "Yeah, but coming back with four rabbits and a squirrel isn't exactly gonna feed everyone tonight either."

"No," he said quietly, "but it'll feed some."

Julie opened her mouth to argue that that wasn't good enough when there was a sudden and resounding crack that echoed through the trees followed by a scream. They both turned in the direction it had come from and froze. "That weren't far."

Julie shook her head and said in a shaky voice. "No, it really wasn't."

Daryl started toward where the gunshot had come from and Julie shot after him, wrapping her hands around his arm. "Don't, Daryl." She knew she sounded close to begging but she was suddenly terrified. "Don't."

"Might be someone that is pinned down by walkers," he tried to reason with her as he tried to pull her hands from his arm.

"No, they would have shot off more shots," she told him, "if they were desperate enough to use it once, it would mean that they'd stumbled into a herd. There would have been more gunshots. There was only one. Please, don't go."

"If you're worried, you can stay here." He was trying his best to persuade her, but Julie refused and his eyes widened when she began shaking so hard her body was practically vibrating. "You don't understand. It's what they do. If they find you alone-" She hiccupped as she fought to keep from crying and her voice was quivering along with her lower lip. "We can't go over there. We have to get away from here. We have to hide."

"The prison's too far away, Julie." Daryl wasn't sure what she had been about to say, but he was sure he knew what it had alluded to. "Woodbury," she answered immediately. "We can hide out in Woodbury."

"Fuck that, I am not going there."

"Then I'll leave you here," she snarled, back away from him, "I will leave you here. It's really simple right now, Dixon. We hide and live or we wander around out here with the wolves and get killed. You make your own choice, I've already made mine."

Julie let go of him and launched herself as far away from him as possible and turned on her heel to head of toward Woodbury. The surrounding terrain was familiar enough that she could find her way to the road and then on to Woodbury. Once she got there, it would just take a while to get through the gate. She had barricaded it well enough before leaving. A twig snapped to her left and she jumped violently. Daryl was moving along next to her, his face a stony mask of ill-temperament and anxiousness, but it didn't matter at all to her. What she gathered from his presence was that now he truly grasped how dangerous their situation was at the moment. He still managed to toss her a heated glare that told she would be bombarded with questions that wouldn't be worded very kindly.

I took them well over an hour on foot to get to Woodbury. There was a car up against the closed gates and Julie frowned to herself. "You're going to have to lift me up. C'mon."

Daryl watched her climb up on top of the gold Ford Taurus. She looked down at him impatiently and he gestured to the car she was standing on. "We should check it for the keys."

She sighed heavily and then said. "I took the keys. 'Sides, I siphoned out the gas so it won't start anyhow."

"Then what was the point of taking the keys," Daryl grumbled as he climbed up after her. She gave him an equally sour look as he hooked his hands together and she placed her foot in them. "In case anyone happened by that did have enough gas to take it."

"You could get in a lot of shit for not telling the others about it," he grunted as he pushed her up. She let out a grunt of her own as she let the momentum help propel her up onto the top of the gate and then pulled herself up to straddle the gate. She rolled her eyes as she fought to catch her breath. "You gonna narc on me, Dixon?"

"How'm I supposed to get over," he asked instead, ignoring the ribbing she was trying to give him. She rolled her eyes again and shook her head at him. "I gotta go get a rope from the armory. I'll be back in less than five." And then she disappeared over the top and Daryl was left with sound of her boots scrapping down the other side of the metal wall separating him. Then there was the sound of her footsteps getting softer until they faded away from completely.

Daryl turned his back to the gate and focused on the tree line. It was eerily quiet out. Either walkers were close or something far more dangerous. There was a low whistle to his left and he looked over to see Julie dropping a rope over the side of the wall and gestured for him to hurry.

Daryl thrust his crossbow over his shoulder and hopped down off the car. He grabbed onto the roped and started hauling himself up the side of the wall while Julie fixed her eyes on same tree line he had concerned himself with not long ago. "They're getting close," she half-whispered to him from her place above him. "We need to get inside and barricade ourselves in one of the buildings."

Daryl pulled himself over the lip of the wall and up onto the patrol platform next to her. Julie pulled the rope back up and started winding it up in her hands as she followed him off the patrol wall and down onto the street. "Where do we hide?"

"The armory," she replied quickly. "There's not much in there, but there's plenty of weapons. If there's anything from this place that we should keep for ourselves, it will be in there. The people we're hiding from don't care about anything besides that and food."

Daryl showed his agreement by nodding his head once and motioning for her to lead the way. Julie took off to the left at a jog and pulled a bobby pin from her hair then crouched down to pick the lock, wishing she hadn't locked it last time she'd been in Woodbury.

"Didn't know you could pick locks."

She pursed her lips and refused to look at him. "Yeah, I can do a lot of shady shit."

Daryl raised an eyebrow at her, but didn't comment as the lock clicked and she pushed the door open from her crouched position, jostling into Daryl slightly as he'd been standing much closer than she had expected. She jumped away in surprise, smacking into the doorjamb. Julie shot him a dirty look as she went in. It was a short narrow hallway. The first room on the first floor was where inventory had been taken and each man was directed to tell the person in charge for the day what all weapons he had checked out. Each person in Woodbury had been allowed one knife and one handgun for every day use. Those on watch or going out on raids were afforded the same right but also had the luxury of carry whatever weapon they chose to check out for the day. The desk at which the clerk sat was nothing more than a dining table. Daryl gestured toward it. "Let's get this in front of the door. You take the legs. I'll go backwards."

They knocked everything off the tabletop and Daryl flipped it. Julie scratched at the side of her neck in agitation as she watched him. For some reason, she couldn't get her eyes to stop focusing on the way his biceps bulged as he flipped the table over. She'd caught herself doing it quite a bit the entire day. Every time they'd come into her line of sight, her hazel eyes couldn't stop from drifting over them greedily. It was making her too aware of Daryl in ways she didn't appreciate being aware of him. She managed to snap her gaze down to the floor as he tilted the table up on one end and the gestured at her to come around to grab the legs.

They lifted the table in unison and squeezed it through the tight doorway as quickly as possible. Once they set it down, Daryl rammed it up against the door one more time and then checked to make sure the door was locked. Julie smacked his shoulder. "Let's move the filing cabinets up against it."

The filing cabinets to a bit longer, but after several minutes, they'd managed to get two pressed up against the underside of the table. Daryl studied their combined efforts before nodding in approval. "That'll hold pretty well." He turned and pointed toward the stairwell. "Someone starts in, we can pick 'em off from the stairs. We should stay up there anyway. That way, we can see if anyone makes it over the wall."

"Ain't nobody makin' over that wall," Julie muttered moodily, still annoyed with herself, "trust me, I studied that thing for months when I was stuck inside here. Ain't no way out and ain't no way in. Unless, they do it the way we did. They might not have a rope though and even if one of them gets in here, I think we can take one."

"You think so," he asked quietly as they started up the stairs, "you seemed pretty spooked."

Julie stopped midstep and turned to look at him, head bent. "They don't attack you outright. They watch you, surround you, and then they attack you. They're smart. You won't even know they have you until they're on you all at once."

They stared at one another for a long while before Julie turned away and started moving again. "Merle used to tell me about the groups they'd run across after these guys got to them." They reached the second floor and Daryl looked around. The room was completely open and there were tables and racks full of weapons. Daryl vaguely remembered going through them when they had come to Woodbury for their final assault on the Governor. There was still quite a bit of hardware, but it was nothing compared to what it had once been. He recalled the large bag of guns she had brought back and watched as she settled on the ledge of one of the windows facing out over the wall. Daryl crossed the room and settled in a window overlooking the street just inside the gate.

"That was the only thing Woodbury was good for," she said eventually, letting her head rest against the window pane. "The Governor may have been a monster, but he kept the other monsters away."

"No wonder you an' Merle got on so well," Daryl muttered to himself in a tone flavored by bitterness, "you're both good at withholding information. Y'all sat on this information an' didn't tell us on purpose, right?"

Julie didn't bother to respond but continued her staring in silence and Daryl took the time to take off his crossbow and settle in more comfortably. Now was as good a time as any to clean his crossbow up. He pulled the rag he kept in his pocket out just as she started to speak again, freezing him in place. "I can still see their faces at night. Every night. I see their faces-hear them laughing. I hear them laugh all the time though. Sometimes, I fell them when they-" she broke off and cut her eyes toward him before looking toward the floor. "It's why Merle and I slept in the same bed. I didn't sleep, but if he was there, all I hear was his heart." She looked up at him, her eyes pleading with him to understand. "You think we didn't want to tell you? That I didn't want to? I can barely breathe some days without smelling the dead leaves and my blood in the dirt. You know there would have been questions about what happened to me. How I got away. I relive that sometimes. Vividly. And every time is just as hard as the first."

She looked away from him and over to the window. "I didn't want to see the look on Merle's face when I told them that they-did things. I know he knew, but I don't...he didn't need to hear it."

Daryl set his crossbow down gingerly when he noticed her breathing begin to pick up at an alarming rate. He held his hands up in front of him and stood, taking slow steps toward her as her eyes darted around the room wildly. "Easy girl, just calm down. Ain't nobody here but me an' you."

Julie hadn't noticed his slow approach yet and by the time she had, he was on her, wrapping one arm around her waist with her arms pinned to her side. Her pulled her front up against him, using his freehand to press her head against the center of his chest. "Jus' breathe, Julie, jus' breathe."

She was gasping in full lung-fulls of air, her entire body rigid and frozen in fear. "I can hear them. They're laughing again."

"Don't listen to them," he said calmly, his voice coming out like gravel, "listen to me. Julie, listen to me. You're not with them, yer with me an' we're alone. In...in bed. What do you hear?" When she didn't answer, he squeezed her momentarily. "What do you hear?"

"Your heart," she wheezed out. He nodded. "S'right. What do you smell?"

Her labored breathing stuttered as did her thoughts as she fought to remember. "Dust from when the cells sat empty for so long. Your-your skin," she answered haltingly, "I smell your skin." If at all possible she'd tensed up further at this admission. Daryl swallowed thickly and loosened his grip on her. "Wha'd'you feel?"

Her breathing stilled against him and he felt her shrink into herself. "I feel your arm around my waist and I can feel your breath in my hair. When you exhale. I hear that to. When I'm-I'm with you. Sometimes, I stop to listen to it. To make sure you're still alive."

She pushed away from him then, desperately needing to put space between the two of them. She reached behind herself to rub at the space between her shoulder blades. She backed herself up against the window and settled down on the sill, her eyes studying Daryl warily. He chose to ignored her rather than engage in such a heated stare down. Julie continued rubbing between her shoulder blades as she turned to look out the window. The itch was constant now. She hadn't been in one place this long before-not without Merle and she couldn't stop from frowning at the thought.

"Oughta take watch in shifts," Daryl said, his voice soft as it often was after having not spoken in quite some time. She looked over at him. "You think we're gonna be here a while?"

"Might as well stay the night," he replied, looking at her with a serious expression, "'sides, from what you said, I don't think they're gonna just kill whoever it was they found and move on. They'll probably set up camp. Take their time."

"I don't remember how long they had me," she said just as quietly. "I was out for awhile. They shot me and I lost a lot of blood. Passed out a couple times."

Daryl studied her for a moment and then said. "I'll take the first shift. You go on an' rest. I'll wake ya."

When Julie blinked the sleep out of her eyes four hours later, Daryl was standing in front of the window overlooking the wall. He cut his eyes over to her momentarily and then resumed his vigil. "I out long?"

"Ain't missed much," he grunted out. "just a few walkers stumbling around in front of the gate. Sun's gon' set soon."

Julie sat up and pulled her pack over. She unzipped the largest pocket and pulled out a power bar and a bottle of water. She whistled to get Daryl's attention &amp; then held them out for him to take. He took them gratefully, tearing into the wrapper of the power bar immediately before biting off a large chunk and chewing loudly. Julie grinned at the act lopsidedly. It wasn't hard to see the familial resemblance between Daryl and Merle. Their table manners were as horrendous as their sour attitudes and dislike of physical contact. Julie smirked to herself as she remembered how she'd managed to break Merle of that last habit. Towards the end, he'd had no problems grabbing ahold of her hand or her shoulder. Sometimes, he would even squeeze the back of her neck, which had always meant he was particularly pleased with something she'd either done or said.

"What are you smiling at," Daryl asked, wiping the smile from her face. She wiped at the corners of her mouth. "'Bout your brother. How similar you two are-were."

Daryl nodded over and over, immediately lost in thought. "He practically raised me, y'know?"

She bobbed her head back at him. "Yeah, that was somethin' he liked to brag on often. Talked about how he raised you up and you turned into a real good man."

Daryl snorted in disbelief at her. "Bullshit."

"I'm serious," she half-laughed at his inability to believe her. "All he ever talked about was you. Kinda made me jealous. Wish I'd had someone who spoke so highly of me when I wasn't 'round."

Silence fell between them and then Daryl blurted. "Where you from anyhow?"

Julie grinned before finishing off the last of her power bar and answered. "I'm from Indiana."

"How the hell did you get all th'way down here?"

She waved off the question as if it were no big deal. "I'd been livin' here for over a year. Was actually in the process of leavin' again. End of the World kinda put those plans on hold."

"Ain't got any family," he asked, thinking back to when Merle mentioned her sister. Julie's normally bright hazel eyes darkened momentarily. "Not any worth stickin' around for. Or wasting my time talking about. Unless you wanna talk about yours?"

Daryl backed off immediately and another companionable silence fell. Once they finished eating, Julie stood up, dusting off the back of her shorts and gestured for Daryl to move away from the window. "Time for you to take a few hours to rest. I'll wake you if things get hairy."

"'Preciate it," he mumbled as he set his crossbow up against the wall not far from where Julie stood by the window. Thunder rumbled low in the distance and she sighed in dissatisfaction. It seemed like their stay in Woodbury was going to be a long one.


	9. Chapter 9

**I own nothing but the original characters I have created. Reviews would be greatly appreciated. MAJOR TRIGGER-WARNING for this chapter.  
**

**Jeanf-Thanks for always reviewing. I'm glad you enjoy the story. I figure that deserves a reward, which will be the end of this chapter.**

* * *

It had been raining for hours. Big, fat droplets fell from the sky in a slow, steady stream. If anyone had been out there, they had probably found somewhere to hide from the deluge and that meant that she and Daryl were safe for the time being. Julie glanced over to where her slumbering companion had stretched out on the floor. Even in sleep Daryl Dixon looked every bit as intense and closed off as he was when awake. _Always on guard_, she thought to herself as she turned back to the window determined not to give him another thought. She had been doing that a lot over the past few days and it bothered her. With Merle gone, it had become clear to her that growing attached to people was dangerous business and she'd been doing well up until she and Merle had joined up.

She cast one last look over at Daryl. You Dixon boys are nothing but trouble.

Julie didn't like trouble. Especially the kind of trouble that put her in unnecessary danger and she was beginning to resent Merle for how much trouble he had gotten her into. She'd been shot because of him. If he'd just left with her when Daryl went back to the prison, things would have been so much better. _He would be alive_, she thought bitterly, _and we'd be far away from this clusterfuck._

Casting a cautious glance at Daryl, she pulled the dogtags out from underneath the collar of her shirt and stared down at them, torn between resentment and grief as she stared at the only thing she had left of Merle in the cruel world she'd been stranded in. She understood why he'd done what he had for her and Daryl, but she'd never understand why he thought he had to do it alone or why he thought they'd be okay without him. It was plain as day that Daryl missed his brother. He had become even more distant than before. But she didn't understand why it hadn't made him more pessimistic as it had done with her. The fight hadn't gone out of him yet and she didn't quite get that. He wasn't just surviving. He was also fighting against the distance he had put between himself and the others in the group. But as fast as he tore down his wall, he built it back up. For every step forward, he took two back. Except with her and that was more than just confusing. It was infuriating.

Daryl had started asking a lot of questions. Julie didn't like questions. They made things personal and they created one too many emotional connections. She didn't need emotional connections and the dogtags she was holding in her hand were a physical reminder why. She didn't wear them to remember Merle. She wore them to remember to keep herself from caring. From loving.

She stuffed the dogtags back inside her shirt and looked back out the window. The setting of the sun in addition to the rainstorm was making it impossible to make anything out. Things were becoming tense between herself and the group. Up until now, they had tolerated her silence, but their patience was wearing thin. It hadn't been much of a secret that she talked to Merle or that it was because she trusted him implicitly. But they also realized there was no excuse as to why she refused to speak with the rest of them after they had done everything to prove they were trustworthy. Beth and Carol were her biggest supporters while Hershel and Daryl tried to remain mostly impartial- Daryl mainly acted as such to save face. But surprisingly, it was Maggie who was the most antagonistic toward her. She, like Daryl, asked a lot of questions. While Daryl's were born more out of curiosity, Maggie's grew largely from suspicion. Julie was aware that the animosity between Maggie, Glenn, and Merle was justified, but she didn't appreciate that animosity being redirected toward her. Glenn's hostility was passive. He ignored her completely. But he never hesitated to back up Maggie's impromptu interrogations. He was always there, just over her shoulder, silently egging her on. And Julie took the frustration and anger that was hurled at her until someone else finally stepped in and told Maggie to lay off, but eventually it would stop.

Because while the group had a million and one problems they were up against, she was adding yet another by causing the group to pick sides and no one was going to pick her's. She was still an outsider; her association with Merle would forever grant her that distinction. No matter how many times she would stick her neck out for them, she would forever be on the fringe of the group, the first one to be cast out when things became too tough and a sacrifice had to be made. She was their new Andrea. Things had become strained between Beth and Maggie and the impartiality Hershel afforded her now would soon disappear as their opposing stances further eroded the sisterly bond that the Greene girls had. She was the outsider threatening a family dynamic. And it wasn't hard to figure out the good of the group came above all else. Daryl, if forced, would choose them as well and she couldn't begrudge him that. She wouldn't. She worried her bottom lip and wondered briefly if that really would be his choice. He had indicated he would keep Woodbury a secret for her, which was more than going out on a limb for her. That was a level of loyalty she hadn't expected. That put the possibility that he would side with her back on the table for sure.

Hearing him groan from his place on the floor, she looked up, now aware that she had been lost in thought for the better part of two hours. She turned her back to the window and watched as he stretched and pulled himself up from the scuffed floorboards as he rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his palm. Julie crossed her arms across her chest and cocked her head to the side. He still had two hours before he was supposed to take point. She watched as he rolled his neck from side to side, listened as the cartilage cracked and crunched and raised one delicate eyebrow. Daryl reached for his crossbow and muttered, "I'll take over."

Julie shrugged more to herself than in answer to his explanation and too his place on the floor sprawling out in a much more relaxed fashion-faced down with her head buried in the crook of one arm and the other lying limp against her side. She hummed her approval to herself. It had been ages since she had lain on her stomach like that. It was her favorite position to sleep in, dead center of the bed with her limbs splayed out in all directions. And while the oak-wood floor would forever pale in comparison to a California King, it was good enough for now.

"You're like a cat," Daryl snorted as he let his eyes wander over her before he adjusted his position in front of the window. She peeked one eye up at him. "With you standing guard, yes. You have eyes even a hawk would be envious of."

"Still can't see shit in that mess out there." She shrugged at his dismissal of her unintended compliment. "There's probably nothing to see. They probably holed up in an abandoned car somewhere to ride it out. They'll come sniffing around eventually."

"Yeah, well, still good to keep an eye out," he argued even though she hadn't really been aiming for that. When Daryl wasn't asking questions, he was picking fights. Julie wisely chose not to respond and simply closed her eyes again and buried them in the crook of her elbow. "Wake me if I'm 'bout to get ate then," she mumbled, her words muffled by the flannel shirt she was wearing. Daryl let out a noise somewhere between a snort of amusement and scoff of annoyance. Julie half-smiled as she imagined the expression that was currently on his face and then wondered why it was she was trying to imagine what Daryl Dixon looked like when she wanted to sleep instead.

* * *

They'd been in Woodbury for over twenty-four hours. While Daryl was confident the danger had passed, Julie was, for the first time, reluctant to leave the safety of Woodbury. "Just because they ain't here, doesn't mean they ain't coming," Julie pointed out. Daryl continued checking over his arrows for what had to be the seventh time. Unless he had snuck out to kill Roamers in the last hour while she was busy staring out the window, she doubted there would be any change. She rolled her eyes and shook her head. A large section of her hair came out of her braid and she huffed in irritation as she untied the elastic from the end and then unbraided the rest. It had started to come undone hours ago, but she had been hoping it would hold until they got back and Beth could re-braid it. Beth liked playing with her hair.

The two little girls named Lizzie and Mika had braided her hair once, but then Mika had started telling some made up story about how Julie was a princess who had had a spell cast on her by an evil sorcerer and she would only be able to speak to her one true love, her prince charming. It made her think about how easily she had been able to talk to Merle about things. And then how she had opened up with Daryl after his death. The sisters' innocent conversation didn't sit right her. That was the only time she ever let them braid her hair.

Julie let her confused gaze settled on the floor as she tied off the messy braid she'd managed to create and tossed it over her shoulder.

"S'at look for," Daryl asked, though he didn't sound too interested. She shook her head absently. "Thinkin'. We should head out now, if we're gonna go. Be enough time to get back before dark."

"Thought you weren't all that anxious," he mocked, clearly trying to agitate her as she often tried with him, but she ignored him easily and instead began packing up her pack hurriedly. Daryl watched her as his expression turned from mildly hostile to unsure and he began chewing on his thumb. After some sort of internal debate, he crouched down next to her swiftly and stilled her movements by grabbing her arm as she had been stuffing the last of their rations in. She jerked her head up to look at him and met his searching gaze with a guarded one of her own. Yanking her arm out of his grip, she stood quickly and backed away toward the stairs. "You wanna get out of here or not," she asked harshly. "We don't really have time for a heart to heart."

She turned away and stepped down onto the first step when Daryl called after her. "Sometimes, you sound just like him."

Julie clutched the bannister. She could feel her nails digging into the dark finish that coated the wood. "We spent a lot of time together."

"Why?"

Julie shoved her hand off the bannister to squeeze the handle of her machete instead. "Cause nobody else cared about us," she snapped as she stomped down the steps. Julie didn't bother to wait for him as she began pushing the filing cabinets out of the way. Daryl watched her at the foot of the stairs and she resolutely ignored him until he finally helped her, signaling that he was dropping the subject that had become such a sore spot for her.

Daryl didn't like that she refused to talk to him about Merle. It made him suspicious and uneasy, like she was hiding something from him. Up until then, they'd had no secrets. He'd ask, and she would eventually answer in her own time. But she'd begun closing herself off whenever Merle was mentioned and he wondered if maybe it was her way of trying to forget. She wasn't sitting at his grave for hours on end, but she did still talk to it.

Daryl never visited his brother's grave. The bastard wasn't even really in there. On a particularly bad day, he'd felt the need to point this out to Julie while she stood next to it. He'd yelled it at her, loud and angry. His voice had carried throughout the open space and those gathered in the inner courtyard had gone silent. Rick had stopped what he was doing near the pig pen, motioning for Carl to stay back.

He couldn't even remember what all he had yelled at her, but he knew that it had been horrible because eventually, Rick had pulled him back by his vest and warned, "That's enough, Daryl."

But Daryl hadn't been done and his tirade had continued until she had whirled around so fast the two men had stumbled back and Daryl's mouth had hung open as whatever he had yelled went unfinished. Because she was crying harder than he had ever seen someone cry before. While her expression was stony and closed off, the tears streamed down her face steadily. They'd stared at one another until he was a second away from looking away. She seemed to sense it and she stalked up to him, forcing him to maintain the painful connection until her face was a mere inch from his and the overwhelming wash of shame that had come over him the second he had seen those tears intensified. He'd been on the verge of apologizing, but she'd stepped around him suddenly as if he didn't exist and left him and Rick standing there immobile until they both recovered. Rick had looked every bit as shaken by her reaction as Daryl, but he didn't say anything. He just went back to the pig pen.

It was after that that Julie stopped talking to him about Merle or listening when he mentioned Merle. Maybe it was just him then. He could feel that same sense of shame creeping in and he brushed it away by helping her move the filing cabinet she'd latched onto. He watched as she scowled at his hand where it gripped the edge so close to hers and tried to ignored the hostility that was emanating off of her. He didn't understand why she did that sometimes. He would set her off in some small way and it suddenly blew up like a landmine in his face.

But he'd noticed sometimes, she'd look at him and suddenly be so enraged he had to stay away from her for hours at a time. It was the strangest thing he'd ever encountered. It wasn't like with his Dad, who was pissed simply because he existed. No, she was mad for a reason and it seemed like a good part of her anger was centered around the fact that she herself didn't know why she was so angry at him. Sometimes, it was fun to watch as she silently seethed to herself and sent him glares of such fury it made everyone steer clear of her.

Once the door was unblocked, Julie took point, leading Daryl out toward the gate, her eyes darting from place to place as she searched for any discernable threat that might have been overlooked. Once they reached the gate, she took the grappling hook in hand and began swinging it leisurely.

"You're a little too comfortable doing that," Daryl muttered as he studied their surroundings. Julie kept her eyes on the gate. "Yeah, well, I was on my own for two years. Had to pick up a few skills to keep it that way."

She let the hook fly and it sailed over the gate. She gave the rope a couple hard tugs and the sound of metal scraping on metal cause Daryl to cringe when the hook caught on the lip. Julie was up and sitting on the top of the metal structure with her gun out, scanning the outside. Daryl took longer to climb after her and dropped down onto the car before she did. Julie sat atop the wall and coiled up the rope slowly. She stuffed it in her bag and dropped down on the top of the car. She shoved Daryl away roughly when he reached out to help her down. "I can do it, Dixon. Back off," she snarled viciously. Daryl held up his hands in surrender and backed away a few steps, glaring at her in an equally hostile manner.

"The fuck's your problem," he snapped. She gave him a look that stated she thought he was stupid. "Obviously, _it's you_."

"Yeah, I got that," he agreed facetiously, "but I want to know why."

"Shut up," she hissed, "this isn't the time. Let's get home and then you can bitch and moan over how upset you are that I don't want to hold hands and skip through the fucking woods with you."

"You are such a bitch sometimes," he muttered, making sure it was loud enough for her to hear as he shoved past her and disappeared into the foliage on the side of the road. Julie followed after him, rolling her eyes. All she wanted was to get as far away from Daryl as possible. His presence had become stifling the longer they'd been trapped in the Woodbury armory and she had succeeded in blocking it out long enough that it had evaporated. Right up until he mentioned his brother. Then it had come rushing back and suddenly he was too close even when he was across the room. The fact that he kept trying to touch her wasn't helping. Julie especially didn't like that she could smell him all over herself. It was something she had discovered when she had woken up for her last shift. For a moment, she had believed they were back at the prison and she was waking up in his bed, but then she realized she couldn't hear his heartbeat and she had bolted up in a panic to find she had buried her head in her arms and what she was smelling was the sleeve of her flannel shirt. She smelled like him. The thought had been mortifying. If she could smell him on herself, how many other people could?

As she watched him move through the trees with the practiced ease of a seasoned outdoorsman, Julie felt her insides drop as a heavy thought pounded against her skull and rang through her subconscious. _This is exactly how it started with Merle. _

Julie and Daryl reached the prison gate at dusk. Rick, Glenn, Maggie, and Carol rushed out to greet them and they were bombarded with questions. Julie was exhausted mentally and physically. _We made it_, she thought euphorically, _they won't hurt me again._ Her body felt heavy as that word echoed in her mind over and over and she collapsed to the ground, gasping in large quantities of air as she clutched handfuls of rock and dirt in her hands. Again. They wouldn't hurt her again.

She was crying and laughing and choking as she tried to breathe. And everyone was staring at her as if she were insane. Except Daryl. He looked worried. Nobody looked like they knew what to do.

Daryl bent over her and shoved her in the shoulder a couple of times to illustrate his point. She had stopped laughing and was now crying long drawn out sobs of relief. She grabbed ahold of Daryl's hand when he went to hit here in the arm again and held it to her shoulder. He squeezed it instead and nodded to her.

"What happened out there," Maggie asked narrowing her eyes down at the blonde girl sitting in the gravel. Daryl pulled his crossbow off his back and shrugged some of the tension that had built under its weight out of his broad shoulders. "Nothin', thanks to her." He gave Rick a pointed look. "Kinda got the feelin' that we might not be here if it weren't for'er."

"Why? What happened," Carol asked and Maggie's suspicious frown deepened. Daryl hesitated and cast Julie a heated look, which the others were quick to pick up on. The others seemed to shrink away from the two in mild hostility. Maggie leaned forward and snapped, "You have to tell us. You can't keep things from the group. It's about time your little friend starts talkin' or she needs to walk outta here. Today."

Julie shot to her feet then, quicker than expected, and Maggie reeled back in surprise. Julie held her gaze resolutely and it was clear that the intensity of it was causing Maggie extreme discomfort. Glenn stepped closer to his wife, making sure to move so that he had placed himself somewhat in front of her.

"Your free ride ends," Rick said quietly, drawing her attention. He held her gaze with an equally loaded one of his own. "Today."

"C'mon, Rick," Daryl tried to argue, "that ain't fair. Y'all kicked Merle an' me out-"

"You left on your own!" Daryl didn't bother to glare at Glenn for that dig, but Julie did, putting in a snarl for good measure.

"-an' now you wanna kick her out, too," Daryl asked and he sounded for all the world like a child for that one moment, "Yer gonna force me to choose? Again?"

Julie broke her gaze to turn toward Daryl. He had started pacing and he was looking like a caged tiger. Julie scowled at him as the sight caused her shoulders to sag in defeat despite the extreme itch that had flared. There was an uneasy feeling in her stomach that grew the longer she watched him. It wasn't fair to do this to Daryl. He wasn't keen on holding on to her so much as holding on to the only person who knew his brother the way he had. Daryl turned his back to all of them as he shook his head. He'd pulled out his hunting knife and was clearly trying to decide whether or not he wanted to go back out and clear out a few walkers just to alleviate the sense of injustice he was experiencing at having another thing taken from him in this harsh world. He had just lost his brother. She couldn't stomach re-opening that wound and leaving him alone. With her mind made up, Julie rounded on the group before her.

"What do you want to know," she asked Rick warily.

Daryl did a complete one-eighty and came back up to the group, looking between the blonde and their leader.

"Everything." She snorted at that. "No, that ain't your business. You don't get to know about anything that happened before."

"We have a right to know."

Julie whirled on the other young woman and began storming toward her. "You have a right to know? You have a right to know? The _fuck_ does that mean? you don't have a right to know. Not now, not ever. None of you."

"Don't-" She yanked her arm away from the hunter and snapped at him over her shoulder. "Shut up, Dixon. Miss Georgia Peach needs to be put back in her place."

The sound of the hammer being cocked back on several revolvers did little to deter her, even when Rick outright pointed his weapon at her. Daryl swore under his breath. Julie watched as Maggie silently seethed in front of her. "Since you think you have a right to know, then I want to know what happened to you."

Maggie looked away then, her eyes settling on Glenn. Julie laughed darkly at her. "That's what I thought. You don't get to know. If this is the price of admittance to this little hellhole, I'm fucking out."

"Don't," Daryl pleaded again, grabbing onto her arm and tugging her back. She refused to look at him. "I ain't gonna make you choose. You're stayin' here. They need you. _I don't_."

Daryl let go with enough force to propel her away from him. "That's how you see it, huh?"

She crossed her arms over her stomach and let her eyes run over him, taking in the intense look on his face, the exact shade of blue of his eyes, the way he was standing before her. He wanted to fight her on this. That Dixon pride was kicking in. She wasn't going to let it screw him over the way it always did. It had cost Merle his life, she wouldn't let it cost Daryl his.

"I was alone for over a year before the world went to hell, I can make it," she promised him. "I'll still be standing even when you all are choking on your first mouthfuls of dirt."

Daryl turned toward the gate again, his back to everyone. Carol was the only one willing to approach him. He shrugged her off violently and stormed past the group. Julie watched him go silently, her expression blank. Once he was out of sight, she looked between Glenn and Rick.

"You know, Merle and Daryl are a lot like dogs," she said quietly, "You treat 'em good, take care of 'em, and they'll stick with you to the very end. That's why Merle turned on the Governor."

She watched as Rick seemed to absorb her words. Glenn watched her with an expression that clearly stated he had no idea what she was talking about. Maggie herself looked thoughtful. Carol, as always, looked sympathetic. She nodded imperceptibly and Julie nodded in return. Julie turned back to Rick, who was watching her. He rubbed the back of his neck and finally spoke. "I'll meet you in the library. Carol will guard the door."

Julie nodded and pointed to her pack. "I'll go put this in my cell."

Julie could feel the tension in the cellblock the moment she entered. Beth and Hershel were standing near one of the tables looking perplexed and uneasy, which had Judith, who was cradled in Beth's arms, equally upset. The infant was letting out small cries of frustration and Beth was trying to soothe her by gently rocking her back and forth while humming.

They turned when Julie pulled the door open and then closed it. Though she knew better than to expect an answer, Beth asked anyway. "Why's Daryl so upset? What happened out there?"

Julie avoided her questioning gaze ass she walked past the pair and toward the cells. She paused when she spotted Daryl glaring down at her from the perch where he was leaning against the railing with the darkest expression she had seen on his face. Amazingly, his scowl deepened further and he pushed away from the railing with enough force that it shook and she watched as he disappeared into his cell without a backward glance. Julie took the steps two at a time and tossed her pack into her cell through the doorway and then left the cellblock as quickly as possible. She had to get this over with before she lost her nerve.

Rick was standing outside the door to the library with Carol and they were whispering to one another in hushed voices. There was no doubt in her mind that she was the subject of their conversation. It was more than obvious when the two clammed up when she approached. Wordlessly, Rick held the door open for her, urging her to enter first. Carol gave her an encouraging smile that didn't quite reach her eyes and Julie had a sinking feeling that after she had left the yard, the decision had been made.

Rick sat down at the table and placed his Python on the table top and Julie eyed it for a moment before she sauntered around the room, becoming agitated. She had never been comfortable talking about herself and her past. Especially, how she felt. She let her fingers trail over the spine of the meager selectiuon of books on the shelf and paused when she came to a volume of Robert Frost poetry. She pulled it out, thumbed through it, and the held on to it, tapping it against her bare thigh.

"Are you going to talk," Rick asked in a tone that wasn't as nice as she assumed he believed it to be. She gave him one of her looks, eyebrow raised in defiance. "You gonna ask your questions?"

"How did Merle find you?"

She shrugged. "You woulda had to ask him. I was out when he found me. I thought he was my sister when I woke up. I was hallucinating."

"How long had you been out?"

"Days," she questioned herself, being sure to keep her eyes on the worn paperback novels in front of her, "don't really know. Kept walking when I got away, and then I stopped. I was tired."

"How'd you get away?" Julie looked at him then, sitting the book on the table. "I woke up and they were all asleep. Even the one left on watch. I took my machete back and slit their throats. All except the first one. I could hear Roamers. So, I left him for them. Left them to turn. I could hear him screaming."

"What did they do to you?"

Julie looked down at the cover of the book she'd lain on the table top and her whole body seemed cold, as if she were no longer a part of it. How her voice remained so even and calm seemed inhuman even to her. "I picked up this mutt a few weeks back. Good dog, smart. He'd run off and I didn't think anything of it. I was busy trying to get up in this tree to sleep. I'd got my bag up there," she paused and pulled the shoulder of her shirt down, revealing the puckered scar right under her shoulder, "They shot me from behind. I didn't even hear them come up on me. It went clean through, but I passed out from the shock. When I came to, there was a fire and they were sitting around laughing. I remember I woke up because there was something on my chest and I felt cold.

She could see his face then as if it were happening all over again. "It was the first one. The leader. He was sitting on me, cutting off my shirt with my own-that's why I was cold. I reached for it, bent one of his fingers all the way back before he smacked me, so I went for his eyes. He had this hunting knife in his belt." She pulled the sleeve further down so that the scar that started at the top of her shoulder peeked out at Rick. He swallowed thickly but didn't look away. "He started cutting on me then. This was the first. It didn't bleed as much 'cause of the gunshot, but..." She pulled the sleeve back up, "They were cheering him on. He had his hand over my face as he cut me and he did it slow. I got my foot up in between us and knocked him back in the gut. One of the other men got me on my left shoulder blade, dug it in deep. I went after him because the leader was on the ground with the wind knocked out of him. Somehow, there was rock in my hand and I was bashing it into asshole number two's foot. That's when they grabbed me by the arms. They had a hard time holding me because of all the blood. My arms were slippery. I felt this pain and I heard this grinding inside me and it was so agonizing I couldn't move.

"The leader had gotten his second wind. He tore open my back with my own machete, all the way to the bone. That was the grinding sound I heard in me. Was the blade cutting across my bones and then they-and then they-" She broke off again, her voice having crescendoed in her sudden hysterics and the glassy look in her eyes was brighter and more watery. She turned away from him and braced both hands on the bookcase, gasping for air while her entire body shook violently. Rick could hear the books on the shelves as they shuddered along with her. She drew in a ragged breath and turned to look at him, her eyes hooded. "I would really appreciate it if we just didn't talk about that part anymore."

"You got away, then what?" Rick asked, equally glad to skip that last grisly detail.

"And then Merle saved me. I should have been dead, but he found me and he saved me. Said I was a fighter." She let out a dark laugh. "He went back to where those men were and cleaned up the mess. Think he even went and looked for my dog a couple times."

"Why'd he clean up the mess?" Julie shrugged and continued to stare off in space. "I killed six men. I got the drop on them. May have been luck, but I killed them dirty. I left them to suffer. I figured I was done, but I just kept going and I wanted to make sure that if they were gonna keep going, they'd dead while they did it." Rick tensed when she turned her suddenly sharp gaze on him as she slid into the chair across from him. "See, Merle saw that when he found them. Merle understood because after you all left him on that roof he thought about what he wanted to do to you; to make you suffer like he did. Merle respected that."

"Respected what, revenge?"

"Wasn't revenge to him," she said from her place across from him. "For him, it was justice. I scared Merle. When I screamed at night and woke up half of Woodbury. I could hear them laughing while they did what they did every time I closed my eyes and I could smell the dirt and feel their hands and see their faces. Merle drank a lot because of it. We had so many bottles of whiskey stashed all over the apartment and then it doubled after that first night. I know I screamed like that when I got shot. Merle said so. But I don't know if I screamed like that when it happened. I can't remember if I did, so I don't know why I do it now."

"Why did you stay? After Merle died?"

She frowned at the table top, looking cross with no one in particular. "Didn't wanna leave the only other person who remembered Merle the way I did. Didn't wanna leave the only family I had left."

"You and Daryl are family?"

"He left you all for us. He was willing to give you up to stay with us and protect us," she said quietly, "I'd say that makes us family."

"But he came back."

"Merle said and did some things he shouldn't have," she said with an edge that implied that it would be in Rick's best interest if he didn't ask what those things were. She tilted her head to the side as she lowered herself into the chair before her. "You consider Daryl family. That's good. He needs it. People need family where they can get it, always have."

"You said you wouldn't make him choose. What do you think he would have chosen?"

"Me." She quirked a half-smile at the thought. "You know, he doesn't even really like me all that much, but he would have. Because it's what Merle would have wanted and it would have ate him up alive to think of me out there all alone. And I'm the only one who gave a damn about his brother enough to dig him a fucking grave." The half-smile had vanished as quickly as it appeared and her voice was drenched in venom. "Ain't heard one of you offer a sincere apology since it happened. Not one. you're sorry Daryl's upset about it, not sorry it happened. Merle did a noble thing. He sacrificed himself for all of us. And instead of being grateful, you all act like he deserved what he got. Instead of getting sympathy, he gets self-righteous pity. Pity for having a shit brother when that shit brother did right by him and right by me. Did right by you, too. He gets a half-assed pat on the back and a 'by the way I'm sorry, but your brother was dick' sort of apology.

"I don't want an apology, but I want some fucking respect shown," she said quietly, "You got empty graves out there for the people you love, but you're content to just let it slide when it comes to Merle, right? Because Lori was a saint, I've heard. And Andrea, jumping in bed with the devil and then staying even after she saw what him for what he was."

"That's enough," Rick warned. Julie scoffed, not the least bit intimidated. "I know all about your group. I knew all about Woodbury, too. People talk when they think you can't. When they think you're too locked inside your own head to know your ass from a hole in the ground. I know about Lori and Shane, I know T-Dog dropped the key. Carol's husband used to beat the fuck out of her. Andrea had to put her sister down. Hershel kept a barn full of Roamers. Carl put Lori down. And Shane, too. I know these things because people talk around me like I'm just air passing through the atmosphere.

"I see things and I hear them and I know what people are because they forget to look and listen for what I am." She gave Rick an equally calculating look. "I'm not here because I think you've all got hearts of gold and you'll do right by me because it's not hard to see that this group is broken. You're all so petty. Angry and distrustful because I wouldn't talk? I've been talking to Daryl for _weeks_. Been talking to Michonne for longer. And you've been gallivanting around without a gun. If I'd really wanted to, I could have killed you already. You brought that with you just in case I had shown up at the gate alone. If I had wanted to kill you, you'd have been dead a long time ago."

"You're not making a very good case for yourself," he informed her. She laughed at that. "And you're not exactly advertising sanctuary here either. The leader is seeing hallucinations of his dead wife, who was fucking his best friend, who he also killed. You handcuffed a guy to a roof, left one of your own stranded on a farm full of Roamers-"

"Mistakes have been made-"

"Mistakes can't be made anymore," she snapped at him as she slammed her hand down on the table. Rick thought she looked like a wild animal just then. "The last time I made a mistake I was gang-raped, so let's not try to feed each other bullshit excuses about how 'mistakes were made'. Mistakes cannot be made anymore. I'm here to make sure that the next time you make a mistake-and you will because you refuse to see the world for what it is now-that it doesn't cost Daryl his life."

She pushed herself up from the table. "Now, I'm gonna go pack my things. Let me know when you want me gone and I'll leave after everyone's asleep. Make it look like I decided to leave on my own."

"You'd do that for us," Rick asked. She gave Rick one of her looks that clearly said she didn't give a damn. "No, I'd do that for Daryl. And Merle."

"But Daryl doesn't like you," Rick pushed. "So, why do him any favors even if he's only looking out for you out of guilt?"

Julie's brow furrowed at that and she paused, hand poised in midair to reach for the door. Rick pushed a bit further. "Can't just be because of Merle, must be something else."

Julie clenched her outstretched hand into a fist to stop her fingers from shaking and managed to glare at him over her shoulder, her long hair obscuring most of it from view. She yanked the door open with a massive amount of force and then stalked out.

He watched the irate blonde storm out of sight, torn on whether he should feel amused or anxious. The girl spelled trouble, for sure, but there was more to her than met the eye. And contrary to her belief, Daryl liked her enough to spend time with her and carry on a conversation or two. That was something.

"Well," Carol said as she approached him from a few paces away from the door. "Is she staying?"

Rick turned his confused eyes to her. "What were you doing down there?"

Carol looked uncomfortable for a moment as she watched. "I could hear what she was saying. When she got to the part about them cutting her, I couldn't listen any more. Didn't want something like that in my head."

"You think she was being completely honest with me?"

"What point would there be to lie about that," Carol asked rhetorically, "I mean, she's not exactly a radiant ball of sunshine. She hard on the inside and outside. We can see that. And nothing she's done has garnered her much sympathy. Merle saw to that."

"Do you think she deserves a chance," Rick asked, looking at her expectantly, knowing Carol would give her honest opinion. Carol looked off in the direction Julie had disappeared, her expression thoughtful. "She was on her own for a long time. And she lived through that horrible...what those men did. She strong and she's smart. And if she's shown she's loyal."

"Only person she's loyal to now is Daryl," Rick argued. Carol gave Rick a reproving look. "That's because he's the only one that's given her a chance. He treats her like she's one of us."

"So do you, she hasn't been talking to you." She rolled her eyes. "She knows I'd tell you. There's a level of loyalty that we can't understand. The loyalty he had toward Merle, he now has toward her because she was so loyal to Merle."

"So, you think she could work here," Rick said, looking thoughtful. Carol frowned. "I think she could either be a great asset or a great threat. Same as anyone else we came across. Just trust your instincts."

"What do you instincts say?"

She smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "To trust yours."

"You're all just so helpful today," Rick muttered as she chuckled and they walked back to the cellblock together.

* * *

Maggie had just finished putting on the last of her riot gear and was getting ready to leave the cellblock to go clear the fences when Julie returned from her talk with Rick looking solemn and angry. Glenn sat beside her on their bed and the pair watched in unison as she stormed past their cell and stomped her way up the steps and over the perch and into her cell.

"Well, I guess that settles it," Maggie said in a quiet voice, aware of the slightly pleased note her voice carried. Glenn looked skeptical. "You really think so? I mean, she never acts particularly happy. I don't think I've ever seen her ever smile. Except for maybe when Merle was being a jackass," he mumbled the last part, sounding bitter. Talking or thinking about Merle always put a damper on things.

"Yeah, well, anyone who's hung up on a psycho like that ain't exactly all there, if you ask me," she replied pointedly. She kissed his cheek, offering comfort in the form of affection, which Glenn had always been particularly receptive to even if he did continue to worry or mope despite her efforts. His lips twitched upward into a weak smile and she kissed them before they both stood to leave their cell. As they stepped toward the doorway, there was a commotion on the perch, the sound of angry footsteps punctuated by a sense of purpose and heavy with anger. They paused when they noticed Beth standing in the doorway to their right looking concerned.

"The hell are you doing?" It was Daryl, yelling loudly and sounding highly agitated. "Did he kick you out?"

The blonde girl answered in a quiet enough voice that they couldn't make out her words. There was a loud thud and then the sound of her belongings being tossed about her cell. She let out a strangled cry of outrage. "Dixon, what is your problem. Stop throwing my stuff!"

"You ain't leaving!"

"If they say so, I am, I was packing just in case!"

"They kick you out, you can stay in another cellblock."

"There are people in those cellblocks!"

"Then you'll have a bunch of people to talk to."

"You are such a passive-aggressive twat, Daryl," there was the sound of someone stumbling and Maggie got the impression that the girl might have shoved him. "If I'm told, I'm going. You don't have a say in this. Ain't your business."

"Ain't my business," Daryl roared, "you been makin' it my business ever since Merle...ever since he went and got himself shot. Ever since he turned. Ever since then, you been making it my business like I'm supposed to be his replacement."

"Truth is, I don't wanna be here," she interrupted, "I don't like it. This cage, these people. I can't deal with it. I shoulda been gone when you came back alone."

"That's how you feel, good riddance."

It was then Rick sauntered into the cellblock and interrupted what Maggie and Glenn could only imagine was the most intense stare down of the century. He strode up the steps and over to the two fighting above them and said as if they weren't at each other's throats, "We need to repair the guard towers. You two are in charge of the project. I expect the two of you to leave tomorrow to go on a run. Take as long as you need."

Someone exhaled sharply as Rick turned and left without waiting for a response. Instead, he descended the stairs with a self-satisfied smirk.

"Shit," Daryl, ground out in frustration. Maggie didn't wait to hear the rest of that argument, instead, she tore off after Rick, Glenn right beside her. "She's stayin'?"

"She is," he said resolutely, not giving her any indication that her incredulous tone had any effect on him. "Girl, said some things that got me to thinkin'. You know, we've been awful accommodating to the people of Woodbury who've come to live here. Same people who supported gunning us down not long ago. And yet, here is a girl who's done us no harm and we're set on tossin' her out, just 'cause she's not a social butterfly."

Maggie pursed her lips in irritation. Rick turned and watched as the girl in question tromped along next to Daryl Dixon as they stormed out into the inner courtyard. He gestured up at the defunct guard tower in a way that indicated he didn't think it was salvageable. She rolled her eyes at him and shook her head in exasperation and then made for the tower, throwing open the door to the steps. Daryl braced a hand against the door, shutting it halfway as he stepped in closer to her and started talking in that low, intense way that tended to make a person nervous. She bristled visibly and knocked his arm away with a greater deal of force than necessary. Daryl huffed, clearly put out by the move and watched as she disappeared from view.

"Don't come crying to me when you get tetanus'n'die," he yelled after her. Once she reached the top of the tower, she yelled back at him. "Fine, I'll just come to you once I'm good and hungry!"

Surprising even himself, Daryl let out a reluctant chuckle. After a moment, he yelled up to her. "What's it look like up there?"

"Like someone blew it up," she called back, smirking when she saw how annoyed he was becoming. "There's a lot of glass. And the railing's shot. The ceiling's about to cave and the floors torn up in a lot of places."

"Is it salvageable, any of it," he yelled again, cupping his hands around his mouth. Even though she had disappeared out of sight, he heard her yell back, "Maybe!"

Not long after, she appeared by his side, dusting the grime from her hands. "I think we might be able to make some sort of guard post, but I don't know how we'll protect against in climate weather. Unless we can scrounge up some plate glass, but I don't think we'll be able to find the tools to cut it with. Or to even mount it. I can't recall there even bein' a home improvement store in this area."

"This is gonna be a continual project and we got more than one tower to deal with," Daryl agreed. Julie looked off toward the tower in question thoughtfully. "That one ain't even really in use unless someone's out on a run. We just need to give them some cover over it. This is the tower that we need to focus on the most."

She tossed him a look, "Woodbury?"

He nodded at her. "Woodbury."

* * *

**And here is a preview of the next chapter, for Jeanf for always reviewing. Thanks soooo much.**

_ "You alone," she asked finally._

_He nodded. "I was with some people, but they didn't make it. I had to ditch the place we were at quick."_

_"How many Roamers have you killed?"_

_"What," he asked, blinking in confusion. She pulled the hammer back on the revolver. "How many have you killed?"_

_"Thirty this month maybe."_

_"How many people have you killed?"_

_"Two."_

_"Why?"_

_He looked away from her for a second. "My parents. They got bit early on. My sister. I woulda shot her, too, if anything was left."_

_She uncocked her gun but continued to hold it pointed at him. "Alright, you're free to get back in your car and leave."_

_"Leave," he asked incredulously, "And go where? You're the first person I've seen in two months. And those fucking things are everywhere back there."_

_"You heard the lady," Daryl said as he seemingly appeared out of nowhere. The boy jumped in shock and his breathing became labored for a second. Daryl had his crossbow aimed at the boys head, but he didn't seem to notice. He was more concerned with breathing at the moment. He had put his hands down and was bent over, hands resting on his knees. "So what are you two? Like, Lara Croft and Bear Grylls or something?"_

_The absurdity of his question struck some part of Julie in a way that had her suddenly lowering her gun as she threw her head back and laughed uncontrollably. "What's your name, kid?"_

_"Zach," he heaved as he stuck his hand out. She reached forward and took his hand. "Julie."_


	10. Chapter 10

**I own nothing, except for the original characters I've created. Enjoy this chapter and please leave a review.**

* * *

Julie's induction into the group was not going to be smooth, that had always been obvious. But it became even more so as Glenn and Maggie pouted in the back seat of the focus like a couple of teenagers who had just found out their parents were chaperoning their school's prom. Once they had informed Rick they would be scavenging materials from Woodbury, he had insisted they take the suspicious couple with them. When all four of them had protested, Hershel had stepped in and ordered his eldest daughter to go. That had settled it.

Julie was riding shot gun, right foot kicked up on the dash while Daryl drove one handed down the road. Julie was absently fiddling with a knife she had packed with her as she mentally took stock of Woodbury. She rolled her head to look at Daryl. "We'll, jump the gate, leave the car, clear it and then we can all hole up for the night."

Daryl kept his eyes on the road as he spoke. "Been thinking that place we met the governor would be a good place to get some lumber, too."

"Be good for building an actual barn maybe," she mused to herself. "There's a gazebo in the town, too. It's whitewashed, but it would do. Carol suggested making a sitting area for everyone to eat at outside. Said people are getting tired of sitting inside all day."

"Sounds like you."

She gave him a bored look. "Daryl, what would make you say that? I for one welcome living the life of a felon." He scoffed at her, but didn't say anything. "What about tools? I'm sure we'll find a lot in Woodbury, but will we find everything we need? We need to weld the sheet metal."

Daryl shrugged. "I'll worry about it. Might be able to find something when I go out scouting later."

"Oh yeah, I'm still on probation," she muttered aloud, "wonder how long that's gonna last."

"Until you quit being such a mouthy bitch," Daryl replied almost immediately. She turned to look at him, only to find he was giving her one of his unreadable looks while he gnawed on his thumb. When he pulled the newly mangled digit away, there was the ghost of a smile threatening to breakthrough. She punched him hard in the shoulder. "Get bit, Dixon."

"Why exactly are we staying there overnight," Glenn interrupted, sounding every bit as put out as he looked. Daryl glanced at him in the rearview mirror. He could practically hear Julie rolling her eyes beside him. "Because this is gonna take a lot of work and we can't be travelling back tired or we could risk getting ourselves killed."

"This is going to be an all day job," Julie put in. "We have to get in, clear it, and then start working on getting everything collected. Moving all that sheet metal isn't going to be easy. It's definitely going to go faster with the two of you here, but that's not going to make it a piece of cake. Besides, there's plenty of places to set up camp. Chances are, even if a few Roamers got in, there's a million places they could be hiding. It's a four block radius and it'd be best if we cleared it before we settled anywhere for the night. That way, if more get in during the night, we won't have as many to deal with the next day."

"Sure we got the fuel for that thing," Daryl asked. Julie nodded. "Oh yeah. I packed enough for it and this car. I covered all the bases. I double and triple checked."

Daryl simply nodded to himself and continued to watch the road. Maggie shifted in her seat and cleared her throat, causing him to study the couple in the backseat. Glenn looked tired. Maggie looked frustrated. He looked to his right. Julie was picking at the ends of her hair with a level of concentration that looked almost painful. She frowned after a moment and tossed them over her shoulder. Daryl thought she had pretty hair. That random thought shocked him and he looked away quickly to chew on his thumb as he watched the road and refused for the duration of the car ride to look away from the asphalt.

Once they reached their destination, Julie hopped out of the car and jogged up to the gold Taurus blocking the abandoned town's gate. She had just climbed onto the roof of the car and was getting ready to pull out her length of rope when Daryl whistled to her. All action came to a halt.

"That's a car," Maggie hissed. Daryl gestured for them all hide on the side of the road behind a burnt out car. Julie was just slipping of the side of the gold four-door when the car came into view. "Shit," she hissed, pulling a revolver out of her waistband and leveling it on the windshield. The car slowed down significantly and Julie scrutinized it. It was a well-maintained Charger. It gleamed in the mid-afternoon sun as it approached. It came to a halt abruptly in front of her and Julie kept her eyes locked on the driver side of the vehicle as the engine cut off and the door flung open. She raised an eyebrow when a teenage boy emerged, hands up in the air. She watched him warily as he stepped around the door and they had what Julie thought had to be one of the most awkward stare downs ever. "You alone," she asked finally.

He nodded. "I was with some people, but they didn't make it. I had to ditch the place we were at quick."

"How many Roamers have you killed?"

"What," he asked, blinking in confusion. She pulled the hammer back on the revolver. "How many have you killed?"

"Thirty this month maybe."

"How many people have you killed?"

"Two."

"Why?"

He looked away from her for a second. "My parents. They got bit early on. My sister. I woulda shot her, too, if anything was left."

She uncocked her gun but continued to hold it pointed at him. "Alright, you're free to get back in your car and leave."

"Leave," he asked incredulously, "And go where? You're the first person I've seen in two months. And those fucking things are everywhere back there."

"You heard the lady," Daryl said as he seemingly appeared out of nowhere. The boy jumped in shock and his breathing became labored for a second. Daryl had his crossbow aimed at the boy's head, but he didn't seem to notice. He was more concerned with breathing at the moment. He had put his hands down and was bent over, hands resting on his knees. "So what are you two? Like, Lara Croft and Bear Grylls or something?"

The absurdity of his question struck some part of Julie in a way that had her suddenly lowering her gun as she threw her head back and laughed uncontrollably. "What's your name, kid?"

"Zach," he heaved as he stuck his hand out. She reached forward and took his hand. "Julie."

"Hey, we don't know him." Julie rolled her eyes at her suspicious companion. "Oh, shut up, Daryl. We're nowhere near home." She looked around his bulky frame toward the burnt out car. "Are you coming out or not?"

Maggie was the first to stand and reholster her gun. Glenn followed at a more sedate pace. Daryl stepped into her line of sight again. "We can't just take him back with us."

Julie watched as Maggie and Glenn searched his car and frisked him for any weapons. Maggie called out "He's clear" when they were through. And Julie looked up at Daryl in triumph. "See, he's harmless. Besides, he's an able-bodied individual."

"Fine, whatever," he muttered in resignation, sounding none too thrilled. "But you're in charge of him until we get back."

"Yessir, Mr. Dixon, Sir," she said with a mock salute, causing Daryl to scowl as he pushed past her roughly. Julie turned back to Zach with a smile. "Okay, so, we don't live here, but um, we're going to be spending the night here. We're here to scavenge scrap metal and some other things for our actual camp. Anything of value you have, bring inside. We're leaving the cars out here. Make sure to bring your keys. We'll siphon the gas out of them once we've got everything inside."

"Why siphon the gas?"

"They can still be hotwired," she explained as she climbed up on the Taurus again, taking Daryl's offered hand as he pulled her up beside him. "I have to go open the gate."

She pulled out her rope with the grappling hook tied on the end and slung it over the gate with practiced ease. "Were you a cat burglar before?"

Julie chuckled as she answered his question. "No."

"International spy?"

"Just go," Daryl snapped in his perpetually irritated state. Julie frowned at his snappy order. "Do you have to ruin every good mood I'm in? Seriously?"

Daryl continued to stare her down stormily and she glowered at him. "I'm gonna start calling you Daryl Downer."

"You do and I'll put a bolt between your eyes," he snapped viciously. Her frown of disappointment deepened. "Daryl Downer."

Maggie covered her stifled giggling with a cough and Glenn patted her back as he looked away from them.

Julie was up the rope and on the edge of the gate in moments. Daryl quickly followed and then they climbed down the other side. Soon, there was a loud squeal as the gate slowly drew back and the trio that had been waiting outside Woodbury scrambled into the gate, piling their belongings just inside.

Daryl and Glenn shut the gate, and Julie frowned at herself when she realized she'd looked up in order to watch the way Daryl's muscles flexed as the solid sheet of metal was pushed back in place. She didn't like the way it made her stomach feel like someone had lit a fire there that was slowly scorching her from the inside out. Daryl happened to catch her gaze and she couldn't stop herself from snarling defensively.

Their new companion whistled low as he took in their surroundings. "This is nice. Why don't you just move in here?"

Julie turned to him, grateful for the distraction even though she was still picturing Daryl's arms bulging in all the right places, covered in a light sheen of sweat as usual. She shook her head to rid herself of the image. "Bad memories about this place for a lot of us."

"You two," Glenn asked, though Zach didn't seem to pick up on the dig. She pursed her lips as she watched him stalk past her toward his wife, who looked just as friendly at the topic that had been broached. Julie sighed and crouched to open her bag at her feet. "You know how to use a gun? And I mean this in an 'are you a decent shot' sorta way."

He shrugged. "I can hit a target."

"That's not exactly comforting," she sighed out, handing him a knife instead of her extra revolver. "You stay behind me, then. We've got to clear the place before we do anything."

"We'll take the left side," Maggie said, leaving no room for arguments. The trio watched the pair go in silence as they turned toward the first building. It was the one building that had always given Julie a severe bout of anxiety. It was basically the community center of Woodbury where almost all social gatherings were held and it had always been packed with people. There'd been some kind of dance there at one point. While Merle had been forced to chaperone and she to attend by Dr. Stevens ("it'll be good for her to socialize"), it had been disastrous. Merle had spent over and hour and a half stationed outside a stall in the woman's bathroom with Karen while she cried inconsolably with her hands clapped over her ears. When Karen had been unable to coax her to come out, Merle had finally kicked the stall door in and carried her out bridal style, muttering about how that "quack of doctor" had fucked up her head again. The governor had watched them go with a shrewd intensity that had put her further on edge. She and Merle played checkers until sun-up that night.

The community center was deathly silent now, but she could still hear the whispered activities of civilization that had once bustled around the front of the building. Inside, the main room was completely bare save for several folding chairs that were strewn about haphazardly. Daryl pulled a mini-flashlight out of his pocket and flicked it on, casting the small beam around the room in search of any of the living dead that might be lurking in the shadows. The three made their way to the far end in silence, and Daryl sent her a look as he gestured toward the bathrooms by flicking the light from the flashlight in their direction. She nodded and they both approached the bathrooms in unison.

"Ladies first," Daryl murmured dryly as he nodded at the door. She gave him a look of her own and replied smugly, "Age before beauty, Dixon."

Daryl blew out a puff of air in indignation and nudged the door open. Julie slid in in front of him, gun drawn and aimed ahead. Daryl rapped on the metal door loudly and the pair stood in tense silence as they waited. When they were met with no signs of life, they both moved forward more relaxed manner. Daryl began nudging the stalls open with the tip of his crossbow one by one and Julie took the opportunity to raid each stall of toilet paper.

"Guys, you done in there," Zach called from just outside the doorway, "this place is creeping me out big time."

Daryl gave her a pointed look and rolled his eyes before he stalked out of the bathroom. Julie shook her head when she heard him kick open the bathroom door to the men's bathroom loudly. She outright cringed when the door swung back and slammed into the wall with a thud that echoed through the hall. Julie stalked out of the women's bathroom to find Daryl hovering in the doorway to the men's bathroom across from her as he lazily stared down the teenager who was regarding him with open fear. She raised an eyebrow at him in annoyance and he shrugged nonchalantly, his arm propped up against the doorway. "It's clear."

"Ugh," she groaned out in disgust as she turned away and pushed past the pair, stepping out into the open space of the hall. She didn't wait for either of them as she left and jogged off to put the toilet paper with the rest of their things. Toilet paper was always a welcome luxury back at the prison. When she turned back around, Zach was standing as far away from Daryl as possible and the gruff hunter was standing next to a defunct streetlight casually puffing on a nearly burnt out cigarette as he waited patiently. Julie stalked up to him, feeling suddenly irate with him for his disinterest in her and their surroundings and what she suspected to be life in general. And the sharp contrast of his dark figure against the light back drop of the whitewashed community center was disconcerting. There was something about it that seemed threatening. As she made her way over to him, her long strides full of purpose, his sharp eyes trailed over her in a way that nearly caused her to stumble. She halted abruptly before him, wanting to spit venom, but too confused to say anything. Instead, her mounting confusion gave way to a tidal wave of fury.

Daryl responded to her visible ire with a clearly discernable twinkle in his eyes as he held out the barely there stub of a cigarette toward her. When she continued to glare, he waved it before her once. "Last puff."

Panic swept through her as she felt her entire body begin to flush and one corner of his mouth twitched upward. Julie snatched the smoke from his hand as quickly as possible, took the miniscule drag left and then crushed it beneath her foot before she started to stalk toward the next building, her entire back itching as she felt Daryl's blue eyes burn into her from behind.

"You would be my hero," Zach said, addressing Daryl and breaking the intense silence, "if you weren't so scary."

Daryl didn't know what to say to the strange declaration and blinked at the boy who was looking at him in solemn admiration. Zach nodded at him. "That was fucking _smooth_."

He bristled at that, and shifted back and forth. "Let's just get this over with." He took off before Zach could say another word. He didn't want to hear anymore useless chatter and he wanted to ignore how amused he had been at Julie's random fit of rage.

Their second building to clear was a set of interconnected shops which had large heavy curtains hanging in the plate glass windows. They had obviously been used as housing. Daryl pushed open the door and walked in without so much as lifting his crossbow. Julie was strolling around the room. It had been set up as a sort of sitting room or den and she trailed one hand over the back of a well-worn red couch as she studied knickknacks sitting in a glass display counter across from it. Zach acknowledged their relaxed demeanors by throwing himself on the couch, stretching out and putting his hands behind his head.

Julie lightly smacked him in the back of the head with a level of familiarity that Daryl found unsettling and he suddenly found himself standing next to her as she rounded the display case to pop it open. Zach just watched him in detached amusement. The blonde was squatting on the floor next to him her nimble fingers opened the mirrored patrician and she pulled out an iPod and headphones along with several hair clips. Daryl wrinkled his nose as he watched her shove the pilfered items in her bag and then the three were off again, clearing the rest of their side without a single walker sighting.

Maggie and Glenn were not as lucky. They all met up in the middle of the street and Maggie was wiping walker guts from her arms as she neared them. She didn't look disgusted so much as annoyed. "We found three."

"Looks like you two picked the winning side," Daryl said as he hefted his crossbow back onto his shoulder. "Find any good places to hide out for the night? Might as well set up a camp now before we get to working."

Julie's stomach dropped when she saw the building Glenn pointed to, but only Zach seemed to notice the way she paled and he expression became slightly panicked. She followed slowly after them, keeping behind the small group and keeping her eyes focused on the cracked sidewalk beneath her feet. It didn't help that she could remember the last time she'd walked down the very same sidewalk with Merle. He'd put his arm around her shoulder in a way that had made her heart pound in her ears but now made her insides scream in pain.

The cold pit in her stomach grew with each floor they climbed and once they reached the landing on the third one, she broke from the group and stopped in front of the door that she had once walked through several times a day. She hesitated for a moment to reach for the door knob, unaware of the others as they watched her with expressions ranging from irritation to nervous understanding. She kicked the door open roughly and fell back a step, floored at the way it still managed to smell like him. She tucked the gun back into the waistband on her jean shorts and crept into the apartment, where she reached for the island counter for immediate support.

Julie could see Daryl hovering in the open doorway, watching her with that searching gaze of his when he knew she was experiencing something too painful for words. After all this time, he still had trouble understanding just how much of a connection she had had to Merle because he had struggled to maintain one of his own with him.

Merle's outdated magazines were still strewn across the coffee table while her coloring book sat opened in front of the couch with the contents of her battered pencil box full of crayons spread out around it. She back-pedaled toward the kitchen and pulled a half-drained bottle of Jack from one of the cupboards surprising everyone but Daryl, whose face had darkened considerably at the implications of her familiarity. They had crowded into the open room, still a tight group on the alert as they watched the blonde unscrew the top on the bottle of whiskey and then chug several mouthfuls until it was running down her chin and the long line of her throat. She wiped the back of her hand and forearm over her mouth and let out a long sigh that sounded a little ragged.

"I need some air," she managed to get out before she bolted out of the apartment and out of the building altogether. She burst through the door and onto the sidewalk, where she collapsed on the curb, the nearly drained bottle of alcohol dangling from her fingers by the neck. She pressed the heel of her left hand against her forehead and shook her head. "Shit, Merle," she breathed out, chuckling in disbelief, "Shit."

The door to the building opened and closed behind her and her body tensed at the unwelcome intrusion. Maggie settled on the curb next to her.

"The hell do you want?" Julie couldn't help herself from snapping in such a venomous voice, Maggie had always been less than thrilled with her presence and the feeling had always been more than mutual since the eldest Greene daughter was one of Merle's most ardent detractors.

"I didn't think Daryl would be too helpful, so I offered to come."

Julie let out another dark chuckle. "You'd be surprised."

"Look, I know we have our differences and I'm never goin' to understand-"

Julie looked at her sharply. "If Glenn died, right now, how would you feel?"

Maggie pursed her lips and then gently pried the bottle from Julie's loosened grasp and took a sip that wasn't as delicate as expected. She handed it back and Julie took a sip of her own. "Yeah."

Maggie looked off into the distance. "Yeah."

* * *

"Great, now they're both getting drunk," Glenn muttered and Daryl cast a glance at him that clearly stated he thought Glenn was overreacting. "They're just blowin' off steam's'all. Ain't nothin' wrong with that."

"We're supposed to be working, Daryl, not drinking whiskey and whining about your dead brother."

The tension in the room ratcheted up exponentially and Glenn swallowed, breaking away from Daryl's pointedly hostile look. "I'm sorry, it's just-"

"Yeah, I get it," Daryl snapped tersely, "he tortured you. You remind me of it every damn day. All of ya."

He stalked over to the kitchen and yanked open the closest cabinet. There was an unopened bottle of Wild Turkey and he had it open in no time. "Y'all act like that's all he ever done in his life. Big bad Merle, gangin' up on Glenn'n'Maggie Rhee. Like his life started when Rick cuffed him an' ended when you two got yourself snatched like a couple of amateurs." He guzzled down half the bottle in one go and a cruel snarl curled his up lip in disgust. "You were right. You do work better on runs when you go alone. You probably had your fuckin' tongues down each others throats when he got you."

"Daryl, I didn't mean it like that-" Glenn tried to reason, but the other man was too worked up and the burn of alcohol down his throat and in his gut was amping him up further. "Y'all act like yer so much better'n he was. We came from the same place! We came from the same damn place!"

Zach had migrated to the couch, where he was watching the pair in avid fascination from the corner of his eye while he colored on one of the pages of the coloring book.

"Don't touch that," Daryl snapped at him as he pointed an accusing finger at him. "That ain't yours!"

Zach dropped the red crayon in his hand and held them both up in surrender. The hunter slammed the near empty bottle on the counter and picked his crossbow up from the countertop.

"Fuck this. I got better shit to do then watch you throw yerself a fuckin' pity party about having your ass beat one time," he snapped and Glenn watched him leave the apartment.

"You know," Zach said suddenly, drawing Glenn's attention as he picked the red crayon back up and finished coloring the apple in Snow White's hand, "I'm starting to wish I'd stayed in my car."

Glenn fell back on the couch beside him and let his head fall back. he covered his face with both hands and pulled the baseball cap from his head and tossed it on the table. "As if the world isn't fucked up enough, I'm fighting with a guy over whether or not it's okay for me to still be mad that his brother tortured me."

"I slept with a chick after we watched her boyfriend get eaten."

That got Glenn's attention. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, it was actually my best friend's girlfriend, right when everything got really bad," he explained, "so, yeah, it was really messed up for us to do that, but I mean, one of the most important people in our lives had just had his face eaten right in front of us. She's was crying, I was crying-don't tell anybody that-and then we were on the side of the road in the back seat. It was just the one time. But it happened."

They sat in silence, both staring at the front door for a while when he spoke again. "Isn't that the way with everything though? I mean, isn't shit supposed to get worse before it gets better? That's one of those things people always said. I mean, my mom said it a lot, so."

Glenn nodded then. "Yeah."

Zach nodded along with him. "Yeah."

Maggie looked up when Daryl stepped off the curb on Julie's right side. Julie held up the bottle and he waved her off as he lit a cigarette. "Your husband's a dick."

She watched as he lowered himself next top the girl who'd been staring off into space with her in companionable silence. Julie lifted the cigarette from Daryl's fingers and puffed on it while he studied her intently, but Julie didn't seem to notice the way his eyes scanned her face to try and understand what she was thinking as she sat next to him with her brow furrowed and he cheeks stained by long dried tears. Maggie couldn't help but notice the way his elbow bumped against the young girl's arm with every exhale of breath or infinitesimal movement he made and how Julie didn't seem the least bit bothered by the contact.

Julie set the bottle down on the pavement and passed the cigarette back to him before shaking her hair over her shoulder. "Y'know, I actually miss this place sometimes. Because it reminds me of before. It was like being in a really small town just like all the other small towns I'd been in before."

"It doesn't even feel like before was real anymore," Maggie piped up, looking down the empty length of street. "I feel like I've been doin' this my whole life."

"Life is weird," Julie agreed and Daryl snorted in agreement along with her. "I mean, we kill zombies now. Honest to God zombies."

"At least I'm gettin' laid," Maggie remarked dryly, causing the pair beside her to turn and look at her. Julie looked incredulous, while Daryl looked like he was close to laughing as he had ever come in his life.

Glenn and Zach stepped outside to join them and Glenn received a fairly frosty reception from both Julie and Daryl. The latter rose from the curb and stomped off. Julie shook her head up at Glenn. "You need to work on your people skills."

"I need to work on my people skills," he asked almost shrilly as he threw a hand in Daryl's direction. "What about him?"

"What about him? Did he say something insulting? Threaten you?"

She stood slowly, stretching her back. "Let's go down to the pit and get this started. I wanna go back tomorrow. I'm not sleeping up there more than I have to." She shot a glance up to the windows on the third story and then made to follow Daryl, who was loitering off in the distance on the other side of the street. Once the other three started after her, she jogged up beside him and they led the way.

"Zach, why don't you go move our supplies indoors," Glenn asked and he nodded as he started off toward the gate to gather their things. Maggie turned to her husband. "I'll help him, so he knows where to go when he's done."

Once they reached the pit, Julie pointed to the large building behind it. "If there's gonna be anything useful, it'll be in there. I don't know if we'll fine anything to cut the sheet metal."

"We'll figure something out, let's check her over again."

The three of them entered with their weapons drawn. Daryl banged on the Metal wall and the resounding _thwap_ it had created, echoed loud enough to attract anything lurking out of sight. They waited until it was clear they were alone and then broke up to explore the area.

"Here we go," Daryl muttered to himself as he found several tools and circular saw set out in a neat row. Julie approached him, a crowbar in one hand as she watched him study the circular saw. "I think this is where Milton did his 'experiments'. Good place for it. They kept the Roamers nearby, so there was always a ready supply of test subjects."

"Was that the butler?"

She quirked a smile. "Yeah, that was the butler."

"Alright, let's get this stuff out and sorted. Still gonna need a welding mask and a blowtorch. Let's start breaking down these walls."

Four hours later, all five of them were covered in sweat and breathing heavily as they cut through the walls of the building, which had looked to be less sturdy than it actually was. Julie wiped the sweat from the back of her neck and onto her shorts before she and Zach picked up one of the smaller cuts of metal and began hauling it toward the military truck. Maggie and Glenn were busy fitting what they had already salvaged so far into it.

"You think maybe this would be good for fortifying the outer fence," Glenn asked and Julie shrugged, "Maybe, I don't know much about that kind of thing."

Maggie shook her head in the negative. "There's been such a build up over the last few weeks. I mean, the fence had never been clear since we've been there. We'd have to have a bunch of people go out there to do it or they'd all push up against the fence in certain spots and it's just not worth it. Besides, who would do it?"

Glenn didn't look disappointed, just resigned. He nodded and helped lift the sheet metal into the back of the truck. "Let's get going. If we work fast enough, we may be able to go home in the morning."

"You know, I actually miss that crappy bed," Julie mused, "thing squeaks something fierce, but it's comfortable."

"It's home."

Julie scoffed at Maggie and smirked. "I don't know about that..."

They stopped at dusk. Maggie and Glenn took the bedroom and Daryl took Merle's armchair for watch. Julie lay stretched out on the couch, staring at the ceiling with her mind blissfully empty. She hadn't daydreamed idly in a long time.

"Does anybody else miss the sound of traffic," Zach asked from his place on the floor in the middle of the room. Julie rolled onto her side to get a better look at him over the coffee table. "I miss being able to drive down roads without seeing any dead bodies. I miss not having to look over my shoulder to make sure I'm not gonna get bit. Or shot."

"Do you miss your friends?"

Daryl watched her from the corner of his eye to see her shrug. Her expression was relaxed. "Didn't have any friends."

"Wasn't that lonely, I mean, you came into this with nothing."

Daryl turned fully to watch the pair now. She was shrugging again. "I came into this with nothing and I'll probably leave it with nothing. I'm okay with that. I don't like the idea of leaving people behind to hurt after I'm gone."

"Sounds like personal experience."

"Go to sleep Zach," she said in a clipped voice as she rolled over completely. It seemed as though Zach had gotten a little too personal.

"What about you," Zach asked him, looking toward where he was sprawled in the thickly cushioned armchair. He fixed the boy with a pointed look. "I miss not being asked so many damn questions._ Go to sleep_."

As Daryl let his head fall back into a more comfortable position, he thought he could feel Julie smiling all the way from the couch, which seemed an odd thing to feel from so far away. _I'm going fucking crazy like Rick_, he thought darkly, even though this inexplicable feeling made him feel light enough that he didn't really care at all.

* * *

The tall grass was the deepest green she had seen in a long time and she spread her arms out at her side so that she could feel the blades skim her palms. She used to imagine they were fairy kisses when she was a little girl. The sky was blue and the clouds were fluffy and white like fresh snow. Unable to stop herself, she twirled in place, stopping only when she caught sight of the two farm houses set apart by another field. They had fallen into great disrepair. The one on the right looked like its roof was beginning to cave in on the left side and the other one had several boards hanging off the side facing her. She turned her back on them and stepped back in horror when she focused on the line of forest that surrounded the remaining three sides of the expansive field. The tree line was covered in walkers, snarling soundlessly as they watched her.

"This is a nice place, aside from that mess." Julie's entire body beat along with her heart in that moment and her breath caught in her throat. She turned slowly, inhaling sharply at the sight of that crooked smile. She launched herself at him with a strangled cry of his name and he roared with laughter. "Good to know my girl ain't forgot me just yet."

She wiped furiously at her cheeks. "I miss you so much and nobody understands." She sat back on her heels and sniffed as she scrubbed at her face again. "You weren't here last time."

"Well, I had some things I needed to do somewhere else. You been worryin' yer pretty littl'head awful bad, ain't ya," he said in that knowing way he'd had that had always irritated her, but she loved it now. "What's that about?"

She looked around at the walkers as they watched the pair sitting in the tall grass, "What's wrong with them? Why aren't they moving? Where is everybody?"

"They'll be along later," he promised as he tapped her knee to get her attention, "this is our time righ' now. Wha's goin' on with ya, huh, Peaches? Why'd ya stick aroun'?"

She sighed out her nose and pulled a couple blades of grass from the ground, tearing apart the roots. "It's what you wanted, isn't it? For me an' Daryl to stick together. You wanted him to keep me safe. And you wanted me to keep him safe. Right?"

"An' how's that workin' for ya?"

She snorted in annoyance. "Wonderful."

"Yeah, I figured you two'd be goin' at it like cats'n'dogs," he chuckled, watching her. "You look good, Jules. You look real good. You happy with 'em?"

She blushed under his intense scrutiny and gave another shrug. He was making her nervous. "I guess I'm as happy as I can be...with you gone."

"You could always stay here, Doll," he offered, "we could just stick together like ol' times. Jus' the two of us."

She gave him a watery smile. "Really? Right here? You'd stay here with me? You wouldn't leave again?"

"I never left," he said quietly, taking her hand in an uncharacteristically gentle way, "you know I wouldn'ta ever left you. Just feels like I did, but-"

She grasped his hand in both of hers. "Come back with me," she begged, "it's gotten better and-"

He shook his head and tugged her to him, "No, I gotta stay here. 'Sides, it's safer here. But you could stay with me if you wanted, y'know. It could be just the two of us like it was, just the way you've been wantin'."

Julie wrapped her arms around him, letting her head fall to his shoulder. There were tears sliding down her face again, but she ignored them as she watched the walkers from a distance where they snarled at the edge of the field. She held onto him a little tighter. The familiar surroundings made her feel immeasurably safe and his presence instilled her with a sense of boldness she'd never known. "I loved you, did you know that?"

"Shit," he laughed, "I may'a been awful thick, but yeah I knew it." He was quiet for a long time and she finally noticed that she couldn't hear the dead as they snarled. There were birds singing and the breeze rustled through the tall grass beautifully, but there was no snarling. "I knew it when I took you back with me. Knew you was gonna be somethin'." She closed her eyes as her insides clenched. "Why didn't you stay?"

"I should have," he admitted finally, "but you can stay here with me now. You just have to want to."

"I do want to, but what about the others. They should be where with us if the Roamers can't get in."

"They'll be here soon, I promise." He wiped at her wet face with his thumb. "They'll be here real soon. Everybody will get here."

"Daryl'll be so happy to see you," she breathed out. She made to stand and he held onto her hand tighter, drawing her attention to the sad look in his eyes. "Daryl can't come."

Julie felt herself freeze in shock, confused and admittedly a little panicked. "But why not? If the others are coming, he'll be with them! He has to come."

He shook his head and tried to smile in sympathy, but it came out as more of a grimace. "No, he doesn't know the way."

"Then you can come with me and we'll show him. He can't be out there by himself-"

"No, once you decide to stay, you stay."

"Fine, then I'm not staying," she snapped, visibly upset with how their conversation was going. She couldn't understand why he wouldn't want his own brother to come with them. "He should be with us."

"He can't come here," he said again as if it explained everything, but she just simply didn't understand. She backed away from him and the farther away she moved, the sadder he looked. It broke her heart all over again, and shook her head when he reached for her. "I'm sorry, Merle, but I promised myself and you I'd look after him. He's family."

Julie turned away from him and broke through the line of walkers. She had to get back to Daryl and the others, they needed her.


	11. Chapter 11

**I own nothing except for the characters I have created. Please review after reading and I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

The new kid, Zach had Julie in constant stitches and Daryl hated it. They went around laughing and smiling at all hours of the day. Sometimes, at night, he could hear stifled giggling coming from her cell where they would laugh until someone finally told them to shut up and go to sleep. Nobody seemed as bothered as he was. Nobody thought it was really inappropriate that this horndog stranger-he'd caught the kid checking out Beth's ass more times than he could count-moving into Julie's cell was a bad idea. But nobody batted an eye. In fact, Rick and Carol always smiled in that daydreamy way they got when they managed to convince themselves that things were better than they actually were.

Rick had put them on gardening duty with him only once. They wasted all the water by throwing buckets of it at each other. Nobody else seemed to have a problem with that either. Zach tempered Julie's bad moods and seemed to take some of the heat out of her with his humor, which was making everyone a bit more curious about her now that she seemed more open and friendly.

As it was, Julie and Zach had been pulled from Tower repair to work the fence with Daryl. They'd had quite the build-up and it was in desperate need of handling.

"Professional Poker Player," Zach declared, obviously not really giving his words much thought. Julie rolled her eyes as she stuck the sharpened end of the cane she was holding into the sunken in eye socket of a Walker wearing a flannel shirt covered in fresh blood and viscera. Their food supply had evidently migrated in the direction of the prison and they had followed. "No, now you're just pulling things out of your ass."

"Okay, just give me time to think," he replied giving her his own look of annoyance. "You have more secrets than a lingerie catalogue."

Julie opened her mouth to respond in kind when Daryl cut in, his tone sharp and full of irritation. "Would you two mind doing your damn jobs? The rest of us got other things to do than stand here and watch you two flirt like horny teenagers."

The pair stopped and turned to their ill-tempered companion. Julie gave him a flat look of disapproval. "What do you have to do that's so fucking pressing? Do you have a doctor's appointment? Board meeting you need to attend? Do you have a date with your girlfriend to go swing dancing?"

Daryl didn't know in that moment why he hadn't maimed her yet, but he wasn't too sure anymore if it had anything to do with his "no hitting girls" policy. "I gotta get my shit packed and talk to Michonne before we leave today."

"Leave," she barked, her expression changing in an instant. Her hazel eyes widened and her sun-kissed skin paled enough that it was almost worrisome. "But you haven't left with her in over two months. Why do you need to go with her?"

They watched each other-he with tense discomfort and her with the expression of a little girl who'd lost sight of her mother at the grocery store. This was something that Daryl didn't understand about her. She became a nervous wreck any time he left the prison without her. To most, she became bitchier and tightly wound, but around himself and Zach she completely fell apart. For a moment, it looked as though she was close to stamping her feet. "She's the one still obsessed with finding that ass-clown! Everybody else has moved on. The fucker's probably had his face eaten off by now."

"Don't you think we all been telling her that," he snapped at her, now as angry as she was. What gave her the right to be pissed at him for leaving when she hadn't spent the night in his cell since they came back from Woodbury. She had Zach to cozy up to, so why the hell did she expect him to fawn over her, too? He'd been trying to put as much distance between them as possible and for some reason he didn't quite understand, it made her much more volatile. She was always angry at him, always ready for a fight, and Zach was always the unintentional buffer who tried to smooth things over. "She won't give up on it. She's convinced that bastard is still out there."

"So what? The council decided the best person to go on this suicide mission with her was you," she screeched at him, throwing the walkers on the other side of the fence into a frenzy as they bashed their bodies against the fence violently. Daryl decided that was as good a point as any to just disengage and he returned his attention to the job they had been neglecting for the past five minutes.

"You volunteered, didn't you," she bit out accusingly. The tension in his shoulders mounted as he stabbed at the walkers relentlessly. She howled at him like an alley cat then. "_You did._ _You stupid fucking dickhead, you did!_ You volunteered to go out there and get your ass bit off by Roamers! _What is wrong with you?"_

Daryl had had enough. He tossed his cane on the ground and whirled on her. Julie didn't flinch as he bared down on her, his face twisted in fury at her. "What is it with you? Why do you think I need to ask your permission to do shit around here? Why do you think I give a damn about you or your fuckin' feelin's? I don't. I don't want you around. I don't want you thinkin' you'n'me'r some sort of fuckin...whatever. What I do ain't your business. We're just stuck in the same cage."

Another flip had been switched, only now he was staring at a proverbial wall and he didn't know what to make of it. And like lightning, she struck, ramming the tip of her cane into the face of a walker with enough force that the cane shattered. She hadn't hit her target in the eye socket, but the middle of his forehead. The walker wasn't as decayed as the rest and his skull had been tougher. Bits of grey matter and skull flew every which way and she dropped her ruined weapon to the ground.

"Jesus, Julie," Zach yelped, lifting up her hand. There was a long splinter of wood sticking out of her hand and bright red blood was pooling and dripping from her wound. She ripped the splinter from her hand without a sound and Daryl knew then just what Merle had seen the day he found her in the woods. And it was a side of her that begged to be admired. Even covered in blood and so much grime and gore, there was something captivating about her. She was the perfect juxtaposition of strength and fragility. She lifted her injured hand to inspect it in the morning light and clenched her jaw.

"That was stupid," she admitted, thrusting her hand out hard to fling the blood from her skin. It splashed onto the ground loudly and the sound caused Daryl's stomach to turn.

"I'll take you to Hershel and you can help me figure out how to talk him into letting me date Beth," Zach prodded gently and Daryl noted the genuine concern in his voice as he pulled on her elbow. She shook her hand a second time as she made to follow him. "Think the first step to that would be to move out of my cell," she murmured and this new aspect of their relationship caused Daryl to reach for her. "You gonna be okay?"

The look she gave him was void of any sort of emotion. He'd been effectively shut out. "Why do you give a damn, Dixon," she asked in a voice that was as empty and emotionless as the walkers pressing in on them, "It's not your business," she said, throwing his words back at him as she gave him a shrug of dismissal, "we're just stuck in the same cage, right?"

Zach pulled her away from him, with his own closed off look, though Daryl picked up on some latent disappointment. Daryl attacked the fence with renewed vigor. The violent row had given him another burst of energy and an excuse to unleash the store of frustration he'd been building up since she'd distanced herself from him. When he finished at the fence, Julie's hand was newly bandaged and she was sitting at a table in the cellblock with Beth and Zach. She held Judith on her lap and was feeding her a bottle while she watched as Zach flirted with Beth, who seemed much more interested than Daryl assumed she would be. And Julie didn't seem the least bit bothered. Instead, she seemed pleased, but the small smile on her face disappeared when she caught him watching her.

She quietly grabbed Beth's attention and jerked her head in the direction of the cells and then stood, taking the infant with her. "Wanna go hang out in your Awesome Aunt Julie's cell?"

She stood up and sauntered toward the steps, pausing when Rick met her at the bottom. He watched suspiciously as Rick glanced over her shoulder toward him, nodding in thought. She must have said something troubling because Rick jerked his head back down to look at her, but she was already climbing the steps.

It didn't take long for Daryl to pack his supplies. Michonne met him just inside the cellblock and Daryl felt his stomach drop when he realized everyone was coming to see them off except for one person and it surprised him that her presence was the one he wanted most. Rick handed the keys to the Focus to Michonne and the two headed off, Carl and Maggie waving them away with weak smiles.

As Daryl watched the gates disappear from view he finally became aware of the weird feeling that seemed to be trying to pull him back to the prison. He couldn't decide if he wanted to go back or get further away. It seemed that with the end of the world, everything that was left continued to fall apart, including him.

* * *

Two weeks. They had been gone for two weeks. Julie and Zach had finished the first tower in that time and had started construction on the second one fairly quickly. Rick or Carol usually brought them their meals, but Julie had been dining alone lately. It should have bothered her, but she'd begun slipping into old habits again and being alone had always been second nature to her. They were plastering the floor, Julie mixing the batch as Tyreese and Zach applied it. Tyreese had worked construction and he'd proved to be invaluable when it came to the rebuild, but he was more dedicated to his budding relationship with Karen than he was to reinforcing the prison's security.

Tyreese was a reluctant survivor of the outbreak. They were the ones who either survived due to sheer, dumb luck, or because they had friends or family capable enough to carry them through the majority of the shitstorm. Sasha had been the one to carry Tyreese when he needed carried. It wasn't hard to figure out why she had been put on the council. Her only emotional tie to the prison was Tyreese and thus her judgments were always unbiased. Sasha was a stone-cold bitch and Julie could appreciate that.

"Okay," Zach blurted finally, glaring at her pointedly as he stopped working and stood to his full height, "what's wrong with you? You've been like this ever since..."

He trailed off and looked at her cautiously, clearly feeling unsure about if he should continue. But Zach wasn't one to pussyfoot around an issue. He was the one constantly addressing the elephant in the room in the most tactless way possible. It was a quality she found immeasurably entertaining-when it wasn't directed at her.

"It's like you've been on the rag for, like, two weeks," he said finally. He looked nervous, but he kept going. "it's getting old."

Julie didn't look at him as she pulled a cigarette from her pack and lit it, taking a long drag. She hadn't smoked in a week. She was smoking this one down to the filter and savoring every last second of it. It was all hers. She leaned back against the metal post supporting the tin roof they'd fashioned from some of the scrap metal they'd brought back and tried not to frown when the post dug into her back rather uncomfortably. "Nothing's wrong."

Zach watched her, his nostril's flaring along with his temper. "Cut the shit. You're acting like a bitch because Daryl's not back yet. I'm not a moron. I know you still care even if you've somehow convinced yourself you don't. You wouldn't be having those weird-ass dreams if you didn't."

She took another drag off her cigarette and frowned over at him. "They're about Merle."

He went back to plastering the floor where a large chunk of concrete had come loose and had been blasted off. He shrugged as he worked, blue-grey eyes narrowed in concentration. The tip of his tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth for a moment as he smoothed over the patch job meticulously. "Then why do the two of you always end up arguing about Daryl?"

Julie shrugged one shoulder and looked out over the garden. Rick and Carl were tilling another plot with Hershel overseeing. They'd planted some squash and cucumbers, but now it was time for some tomatoes. She'd even heard talk about trying to find the seeds for an apple tree or two. Just the thought of an apple made her mouth water. "What do you think he means? When he asks me to stay? He always asks me to stay. I don't know what it means."

"Jules, it's just a dream," he sighed, clearly agitated with her for skirting around the real issue, "like they ever make sense. Hell, he could be asking you if you want to feed cheeseburgers to a herd of orange water buffalo." She turned to look at him incredulously and he held his hands up. "Don't ask. Just be glad your dreams aren't ten different shades of fucked."

"Well, if you had to guess," she pressed, becoming annoyed as well. He huffed a little and stopped working, mopping his brow of a barely there sheen of sweat. It was cool out as it had rained the night before. "If I had to hazard a guess, it's your subconscious' way of saying it feels guilty."

A surprised sound echoed somewhere from the back of her throat and she took another puff. "Guilty about what?"

He shrugged at her. They did a lot of shrugging, she'd noticed. "About Merle dying, Daryl losing his brother, about caring about Merle. About caring about Daryl more than you did about Merle, about how you've stopped-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," she exclaimed, eyes wide in disbelief. "_Whoa. Back up_. I don't not care about Daryl. _In that way_." She hissed the last part and couldn't help but let her eyes dart in every direction. She leaned over to glance over the side of the tower. Nobody's head had turned to look up at them, but that didn't give her any small amount of relief.

"You asked for my opinion and I'm giving it to you, Sweet Cheeks," he argued back. "I think it makes you feel guilty, which it shouldn't, because I mean, it'd make sense. You're the two that just sit there and have a conversation without saying anything or have philosophical debates by commenting on the weather without even having to bring Socrates' name into it at all."

"The hell are you talking about?"

"You guys talk around the issue of you so much that you wind up actually talking about it," he said bluntly. "This whole fucking fight you're having is because you let your mouth get ahead of you and actually told him, for once, that you give a shit about what happens to him. You didn't try to push him away, you tried to pull him closer and it backfired. So, now you're sitting up here acting like you don't give a shit when you clearly do."

"You have no fucking clue what you're talking about," she snapped waspishly. He snorted and shook his head. "_No_, you don't know what I'm talking about because you're too busy trying to interpret meaningless dreams instead of trying to figure out reality."

He had finally finished the patch job and was ready to move on to the next area he needed to patch. "You should have said goodbye and you know it."

"It's not my fault that asshole has a deathwish," she grumbled, kicking a small chip of concrete of the edge of the tower. She watched as it bounced off the fence and into the tall grass below. Her eyes wandered over to the field and she paused mid-puff when she spotted Rick, shirtless, bent over to pry a rock out of his path. "Hello, Officer Friendly."

"Jesus, really," Zach exclaimed. "What is it with you and unavailable men?"

"I'm admiring the male form, not considering whether or not I want to pick out china patterns with him. Besides, you stare at Karen's ass all the time when Tyreese isn't looking."

"It's a nice ass." He dumped some of the mixed plaster over a large gouge near the corner across from her. "Carol has a nice ass."

"What is it with men and asses," she guffawed loudly as she stubbed out the cigarette filter and tossed it. He grinned along with her, the tips of his ears growing pink with mild embarrassment. "I was just being honest."

"What do you mean about unavailable men," she asked, still chuckling. "I'm not exactly putting out any vibes that I want anything with anybody now."

Zach's mouth dropped open and his eyebrows lowered as he pointed at her. "You are so full of shit your eyes should be brown, you know that?"

He started ticking off fingers on his left hand in quick succession. "Jason, then his brother, Mick, then Merle, then his brother, Daryl- _what is it with you and brothers?!_"

"Okay, Jason, was puppy-love gone horribly wrong and Mick-I told you that was revenge," she defended. "Jason fucked my sister, so I fucked his brother-"

"And then you skipped town!"

"-nothing happened with Merle because I'm just as unavailable. And Daryl is not even somewhere that I've been trying to go. That'd be like going to China when there's a bird flu outbreak."

"Did you seriously just compare him to an infectious disease? That's messed up. _You're_ messed up." He was giving her that look that always made her laugh. _It's the one that always makes Daryl scowl_. Her laughter died off as the thought drifted into her head.

"No, I meant, trying anything with him would just be stupid and unbeneficial-"

"I don't see how getting laid regularly would be unbeneficial, but, you know, I'm not you-who apparently thinks she is a nun living in a convent-or a Catholic priest."

"Like you and Beth are ever going to go all the way."

"Wait, so this _is_ a Catholic Private School," he exclaimed, smacking his forehead, "that completely explains all the sexual repression and sex in bathroom stalls that's been going on. And all the prayer. And the rising dead. Very biblical, I should have seen it by now."

He waited until the last of her laughter died off. "Look, why don't you just admit it?"

Julie sighed in defeat and fell back, flinching when her head met the concrete a little more roughly than expected. "Because, even if I liked him like that, I don't want to go there again? Ever? It hasn't even been a year since it happened and I just got over the nightmares. I still flinch when people touch me-when you touch me. I've never been able to handle feelings, being with people like that." _Screw it_, she thought as she pulled out another cigarette-she only had four left and the pack had lasted her since she'd lived in Woodbury-and lit up. She took a long drag and rubbed at her eyebrows as she watched the smoke rise above her. She studied the ancient paper as it burned away from the stale tobacco. "I can't remember the last time I flinched when Daryl touched me." She took another drag. "I don't even know if there was a first time to be honest."

There was a tense silence as they both mulled over her words. "Is it selfish to want more? When the world's gone so completely to shit isn't it kind of selfish to ask for even more?"

"Life's too short now to be alone," he observed solemnly as he came to lay down next to her. She offered him the stale Marlboro and he took it and took a long pull off of it. "Don't tell Beth."

"I used to just want to be out there even after it happened. Even after I killed my first Roamer, I still thought it was better than the way things were, but now..."

"People used to worry about what they were gonna do for the rest of their lives and now they have to live like that day is the rest of their lives. What's it matter what we want anymore or what we do with the time we have left? I'd rather be sitting in a cell watching Beth and Hershel read scripture for hours than working the fence. And I fucking hate watching them read scripture."

"Merle used to sit and watch me color while he cleaned his knife," she murmured, lost in a memory that seemed so old it was merely a dream. "Used to just sit there and polish it for hours and I never understood why because that knife was in perfect condition. Couldn't get any sharper or cleaner. But it was the quiet he was after. Just the two of us sitting there in an apartment like the world had never stopped being what it was and we really did live there and pay rent and have an asshole landlord. It was nice to pretend for an afternoon that we had those things back. Things I never even wanted."

"Do you want them now?"

"No, I don't think I do," she said softly, "I think they're just pretty little ideas that I get stuck in my head when I think for too long and they don't mean nothin'. I think I just want the world to start going back to the way it was, but I still don't want to be a part of it. I don't belong there."

"You don't belong here either."

She sat up and looked over at him as she handed him the last of their shared cigarette. "Maybe that's what Merle meant."

* * *

They'd been looking for two weeks when they ran into their first serious problem. A herd of walkers had stumbled through the town they were camped in for the night and it had been three times the size of the herd that had taken out the Greene Farm. He and Michonne had been forced to sit and wait in total darkness in the broom closet of a ransacked feed supply store. Michonne had insisted they come in to look for some gardening supplies for Rick. Daryl was hoping she regretted that decision. He was definitely regretting her decision. Especially since they'd left most of their supplies in the car parked in the alley behind the store, an alley which was surely crawling with walkers.

They'd debated heatedly for hours on whether or not they should make a run for it, but they knew that if they managed to get swarmed, they were gone. The focus would never have enough power to cut through a herd that size and neither of them wanted to try their chances on foot either.

"We keep goin' farther out, keep stayin' away for too long," he said quietly, going still when a walker passing the store slammed into the plate glass of the store front. He waited several minutes before speaking again. "Wonder how they're doing on food."

"I'm sure Glenn, Maggie, and Julie have kept them pretty well stocked. We'll have us enough creamed corn to last a whole 'nother year," she assured him jokingly, but it only made him scowl in thought. "We should be there. You know, just cause he's still out here don't mean he ain't gone back while we were gone."

"That really what you think he did?"

"He tried to shoot Judith out of Beth's arms and got Julie instead," he responded gruffly, "anything's possible with a psycho like that on the loose."

"He wouldn't have the man power to go back, if he could even find it."

"Could always back another truck full of walkers into the yard again," he reminded her and she pursed her lips. "What are you really saying here, Dixon?"

"I'm saying after we checked our grid, we should have gone back instead of fuckin' running all over the Goddamn state," he snapped angrily, "now we're stuck in a janitor's closet with no food or water, going on day three."

"We had no way of knowing that herd was gonna come through."

"No, but we wouldn't be stuck here-"

"I get it, I should have stuck to the plan."

"You shoulda stopped goin' out."

Michonne sighed and gave him a look as she crossed her arms across her chest and watched him. He was chewing on the inside of his right thumb looking much gloomier than normal. "You volunteered to come with me. You said I needed back up. You said you were down for this. Now you've got a bone to pick?"

"Been gone so long we don't even know if the prison's still standing," he muttered, "They probably think we're dead an' I know the second we get back, you'll be planning your next trip out. He don't wanna be found and he ain't gonna be found."

"So what? I just stop?"

"You can keep going, but after this, I'm done," he replied, staring up at the metal door knob just above his head. "Can't keep going out like this when there's things need done back with the group. Bet they ain't even half done with them towers. Rick probably hasn't even planted shit yet. God, knows if they even sent anyone out to check the snares."

"Julie's doing it," she said, causing Daryl to turn his cool eyes toward her. She inhaled deeply, sensing that she had just broached a very sensitive topic. "She told Rick she'd do it while we were gone. Girl's turned out to be a real asset to the group."

He merely grunted in response. "Never really figured out how to reset 'em right."

Michonne shrug and smiled easily. If he was saying that much, the conversation wasn't due to turn ugly for a few minutes. "Figure Rick probably went with her and showed her how."

He didn't even bother to grunt that time and she felt her shoulders tense. The conversation had soured instantly. "You know I can't just stop looking for the bastard."

"I didn't say you had to. Said I was stoppin'."

They stared each other down in silence until Michonne finally decided it was time to call a truce. "We can't stay in here any longer. We got to get out to the car. Three days is too long."

He nodded imperceptibly, aware of the fatigue that had begun to set in hours ago even though he'd had first watch shift the night before. "We'll have to just chance it. Go through the back door. Car's not far off, but the walkers."

"That's still a lot to go through."

"Maybe we should leave the car, head for the creek," he suggested, "it's not far off."

"Yeah, but there's no cover and we don't know how far this herd stretches. We already risk leading them back."

"Which is why we should head for the creek. We can draw them further away, then circle back around. I say we leave the car an' come back an' get it later."

Michonne nodded to herself as she thought it over, picking at the knee of her jeans in thought. She nodded resolutely, then. "Alright, how far off do we lead them?"

"A mile," he replied as he reached up for the door knob and lowered his voice to a whisper, "then we double back, give em' a wide berth, but once we lead far enough, we should be able to circle back around easily enough."

"And if we get swarmed?"

He gave her a pointed look before he slowly pushed the door open. "Let's hope we don't."

They could hear the herd just outside the store as they shuffled around aimlessly, snarling and moaning. They slipped out of the closet slowly and made their way along the back wall toward the counter. There was a another door behind it that led to the stockroom and through that, had been the back door they had come in through. Daryl went in first, crossbow at the ready and was momentarily relieved when he did a sweep with his eyes and came up with nothing. "None of 'em got it, yet. S'good."

"Maybe they ain't choked up in back. Can make it out by car."

Michonne took point once they reached the door to the alley and she wrapped her hand around the handle. She gave him a look. "You ready?"

"Go for it," he urged and she threw the door open. Daryl had let the bolt fly before he registered that the walker was even there and it dropped instantly as Michonne came up next to him and dropped two more. He pulled the arrow free from it's skull as he swung the crossbow onto his back and pulled out his knife. While he was content to let Michonne take care of Walkers who had wandered too close, the part of the herd that had wandered into the alleyway was too large to bother with reloading the crossbow over and over and he was guaranteed to lose more than a couple if that was the route he chose to go. Instead, he chose to cover Michonne's back as they cut their way down the alley. They had fifty feet to clear before they made it to the focus and they had to be quick.

"You get the car started," he grunted as he stabbed a walker through the temple with just enough force to get the job done. The smell of rotting corpses was thick and getting stronger. They'd attracted company. They still had another thirty feet to go and he was loathe to admit he was slower than he usually was. Two days without food and water had more than taken their toll. There was a dozen walkers surrounding the car and they were moving toward he and Michonne along with the couple dozen in between the car and themselves. This did not bode well at all.

"We need to head for the creek," she insisted, as she held the line, slicing through the three directly in front of them as he came down on the forth, expending more energy than normal. He was beginning to wear thin. He'd been giving Michonne his share of their rations once they became trapped despite her protests.

Daryl shook his head. "If we don't get to the car now, we're done," he breathed in raggedly. "We need to get out of here fast."

Twenty feet to go. They were still making enough progress that the walkers behind them hadn't quite caught up yet. Daryl grabbed one by the collar that made a made grab for her while she stabbed at one in front of her and hurled it head over feet into an open dumpster. He grabbed the next one that lunged in a similar fashion and ran it head first into the wall. Michonne side-stepped another and he took it out with ease.

Ten feet to go. Eight walkers left. Daryl couldn't remember the last time he had felt so tired. It had to have been before they reached the prison, right after the Greene Farm was overrun. In the time it took him to take out two, she had dispatched four. There were two left. She managed to knock the first to the ground, stomping on its skull hard. Daryl made for the second one, which was more skeleton than walker and crumpled easily as the blade of his knife crashed through the base of its skull. Just as he was pulling out the knife, a third grabbed her from behind and he somehow managed to get his feet moving fast enough to pry it from her. This walker had been a survivor. It was newly turned and still had enough weight to it that prying it away from her was much more of an effort. Newly turned walkers had always been the most dangerous. They were faster, stronger, more easily riled up, and they were hungrier. They gorged themselves until they couldn't move and then were forced to lie and decay, unable to bear the weight of the flesh they had ingested. But they were also the most blood-thirsty and if presented with a greater variety of prey, were more concerned with killing than actually eating.

Daryl had managed to pry its grip from her hair and body, but now he had its full attention and it was fighting to turn in his grasp as it snapped its teeth at him over its shoulder. It was an adult female about Julie's age with the same height and build. The similarities were disturbing. Light brown eyes flecked with blood, stringy hair that had once been a soft honey color. Michonne plunged her knife into the walker's temple and Daryl had been so caught up in assessing its similarities to the girl back at the prison that he hadn't been ready for the sudden dead weight in his arms and it forced him backward and onto ground, his fall cushioned by a pile of rotted crates. There was fire in his left side and it stole his breath away.

"Shit," Michonne cried out as she lunged for him. He blinked up at her, unsure if it was the sweat pouring into his eyes or the pain in side that was causing him to lose focus. With her help, he managed to stagger to his feet, falling against the side of the car as she threw open the back door. "Get in," she snapped, shoving him.

Daryl fell across the back seat, barely aware of her as she climbed into the front seat and started up the car. She seemed somewhat frantic. "Don't you die on me until we get back to the prison."

He snorted in amusement, but as it caused a twinge of searing pain, it ended on a cough. He pressed a hand to his side and hissed in pain as he rolled to his right. There was something lodged in his side and it was protruding out the back. When his hand came away from the affected area, it was covered in blood and the seat was beginning to squelch with every move the car made. He blinked sluggishly. When had they started moving?

"Stay awake, Redneck," Michonne ordered weakly. She was worried. Daryl turned his head toward the front and felt something in his stomach knot when a familiar blonde head poked around the passenger seat. "Didn' 'spect to see you when'm hallucinatin'."

"You've been thinking about me for two weeks," she retorted, sounding neither insulted nor annoyed with his harsh words, "who did you think you would see? Merle?"

Daryl attempted to narrow his eyes at her, but found that he couldn't focus. He was losing too much blood. "Know it ain't really you. M'sorry for what I said."

"Don't worry," she assured him with a smile, "you can tell me in person. Just stay awake."

He should have listened, but it had been a long day and he was tired.

* * *

It was Julie's day off and she had been passed out until well after noon. She'd pulled the sheet across the cell door and buried her head in the pillow under her head and cocooned her body in the mass of blankets that had been piled high on the bed. All she could smell was Daryl Dixon and it was nice and safe and familiar and she never wanted to leave. As she dozed on and off, she didn't dream of Merle or her past or anything, really. She dreamt of walking down a road that lead to somewhere far away and that was it. There was a fork in the road up in the distance. Just as it had come into sight, there was a tug on her leg.

She snuggled her face into the pillow and groaned in displeasure. "Fuck off," she moaned.

"Julie, Daryl's back."

Julie pulled her head out of the pillow and rubbed at her eyes. No matter how long she slept, she always felt exhausted. "Where's he at? I need to yell at him some more."

Her smile faltered when she took in Zach's grave expression. "Is he dead?"

"Hershel's working on him. He lost a lot of blood," Zach said finally, looking more and more upset the longer he spoke. "Fucking impaled himself on a rotten piece of wood pulling a walker off Michonne. They're using and IV on him. He and Michone were without food and water for two days."

Julie couldn't remember pulling the pillow into her lap and burying her face in it. "Is he gonna die?" She was aware that she sounded small and fragile like a child, but things seemed so wrong and so horrible. _It's happening again_, was all she could think.

"No, no, no," Zach rushed to assure her as he pulled her off the bed and into his arms, "he'll be fine. Let's go down and you can see for yourself, okay?"

Julie nodded as she slipped her legs over the edge of the bed and set the pillow back down on the mattress. Zach grabbed her bootsfrom beside the doorway and handed them over. She pulled them on and Let Zach lead her by the hand out of the cell. She could hear people talking in frantic voices down in the common area and then she could see the blood. Large puddles of blood trailed into the cellblock and her heart dropped at the sight of them. Her knees gave out when they reached the doorway. Rick and Hershel were covered in blood as they worked to pull the large piece of wood sticking out of Daryl's left side. It was slick with blood and they kept losing their grip. Glenn stepped in, letting Hershel stand back and wipe the blood from his arms.

"Too much blood," she whispered, "so much blood."

"It's okay." Zach was holding her, but his voice was far away.

Glenn and Rick staggered back as the piece of wood came free and Julie's legs went numb as she took in the length and width of it. It was as wide as her balled up fist and longer than her forearm.

"I've got to pack the wound and stop this bleeding, but I've also got to pull out any other splinters. It's going to be painful," Hershel said, looking at the crowd and then back down to his patient, "Julie's going to come over here and hold your hand. Is that okay?"

Daryl lifted a blood soaked hand in her direction and Julie was instantly there, her hand in his. He held it like a vice. His cloudy eyes were so blue and she bent her head to lay it on the table beside his. Daryl gasped loudly as Hershel began pulling splinters from his torn flesh.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you and didn't say goodbye," she told him quietly. "Still think you're an asshole for what you said."

"I am," he agreed readily, he managed to grip her harder. She smirked at that. "Well, the first step is always to admit you have a problem."

He began to laugh and coughed instead, going rigid as the pain from his injury coursed through his body. "You're okay," she assured him, "you can pass out if you want to. I'll slap you awake when it happens."

"Fuck off," he wheezed out, one corner of his mouth quirking up in a smile.

"Well, it's not as bad as it looked," Hershel told the pair without looking up from where he had his fingers buried in Daryl's side. Julie blanched at the sight. The undead eating people alive she could handle, but a veterinarian with his hand buried in Daryl Dixon's gaping side? She had to draw a line at that one.

"It looks that bad, huh," Daryl asked her dryly. She tried to smile, but she was having difficulty as the sight of half Hershel's hand fitted under Daryl's skin was still burned into her mind.

"No internal bleeding, ruptured organs, the blood loss has been stemmed," Hershel said finally, "so yes, I would say it looks much worse than it was. However, I expect you to stay off your feet for at least two weeks."

The idea of being bedridden for such a lengthy period of time had him attempting to sit up in protest. Rick held him down with one hand on his chest while Julie managed to scowl past her nausea. "Do you want us to tie you to your bed? Because we will."

"Ain't nobody tying you to your bed," Rick said, trying to calm down the injured man, who looked ready to roll off the bed at a moment's notice.

"I will." Daryl gave her his fiercest glare, which she ignored easily by busying herself with wiping his blood off her hands. She frowned when it seemed like the red stain grew over hands. Someone handed her a wet cloth and she began to scrub vigorously. Julie could feel the panic in her begin to well up when she realized the red hue of her skin was darkening and her hands were no cleaner than they hand been when she had started scrubbing.

"Let's go get that cleaned up," Carol offered from beside her with a gentle but firm hand on her shoulder guiding her out of the cellblock toward the bathrooms. Julie felt herself nod as she continued to wipe at her hands and Carol placed a motherly arm around her shoulders. Julie pulled away slightly, but Carol was having none of it. She tightened her hold on the younger woman and gave her a chastising look. Julie didn't try to pull away again and instead let Carol do what she was planning to do, which seemed to be take care of her.

Once inside the bathroom, she had Julie sit on one of the benches while she filled a sink with water from one of the large barrels they had been using to store water they had collected. She motioned for Julie to come over and Julie eagerly submerged her hands in the water, watching as the clear liquid turned pink.

"Is that better," Carol asked. Julie bobbed her head up and down and rubbed her hands, watching as the pink water turned darker and darker. "I don't know what happened. It wasn't the blood. I'm used to the blood."

"It was the person it came from," Carol supplied, holding out a small piece of soap. As she took it, Julie gave her a guarded look, but Carol ignored it easily. "You two are close. You're a lot closer to him than anyone else here."

"You're close to him and you didn't freak out," Julie grumbled. Carol shot her a bemused look. "That's because I'm used to him coming back with all sorts of horrible, life-threatening injuries. He almost got his head shot off one time."

"No shit," Julie breathed in surprise. Carol chuckled and nodded her head as Julie flung the water from her now clean hands. "Yeah. He had an arrow sticking out of his side, too. But he always lives through it. He's like a cat with nine lives."

"I'd ask how he gets himself into these situations, but," she said, gesturing at their surroundings. "Maybe this is bothering me so much because we've all had it so good lately. It's been how long since anyone died? We're no longer just a group. We're a community and we've got rules and we've got safety precautions and everything else, but...he still almost died. I forgot we don't have what we need to fight things like this. You know, hospitals and doctors. Because it didn't seem like we've needed it."

"Until someone gets skin cancer from the lack of sunscreen," Carol deadpanned and they both sat down on the bench. "Sometimes, I forget, too. I wake up in the morning and I'm so tired from the day before that for a split second I think, "To hell with everyone else. They can just throw something in the microwave." And then I remember and I get up and I spend the next thirty minutes wondering how on earth I could have forgotten something like this. Living in a prison." She shook her head as she stared up at the high ceiling.

Julie picked the dirt from beneath her fingernails. "We're getting too comfortable. It's dangerous."

"It is," the older woman agreed.

* * *

Here is a preview for the next chapter, dedicated to Jeanf and Squishy97:

_ "Fuck off, Dixon, I hope you rip your fucking stitches."_

_"I think that meant 'a thank you would have been nice' in Julie speak."_

_"Girl's got problems," Daryl muttered and dropped his spoon into his half-eaten bowl of cereal. He wasn't too hungry anymore. His side was aching too badly to ignore any longer. Rick gave him a bemused grin. "You sure that's what it is?"_

_"Have you met her," Daryl retorted, "fucking lunatic loses her shit at the drop of a hat. _My_ hat. Walk into a fucking room and she wants to shoot my head off."_

_"Wonder why that is," Rick questioned rhetorically. Daryl cut his eyes at him and the former Sheriff's Deputy smirked to himself as he stood. "You need to rest and I'm sure it's about time for Hershel to come and give you your pain meds."_


	12. Chapter 12

**I own nothing except for the characters of my own creation. Please read, review, and enjoy!**

* * *

Julie studied the tall, green grass surrounding her and hesitated for a moment. Even here, she was tired and it was tempting to just lay out in the grass in the warm glow of the sun instead of getting up and trying to find where the hell Merle was. She looked behind her toward the two houses far off and then toward the edge of the field. There was still a large number of roamers standing on the edge, snarling and snapping.

_Fuck it_, she though breezily to herself, _I deserve a break. This is my fucking dream_.

Julie threw herself back into the plush grass and let out a contented sigh, stretching.

"You really are like a cat."

Julie jumped and sat up quickly, confused. She held up a hand to shield her eyes from the sun and studied the figure bending over her. "How the hell did you get here?"

"How the fuck should I know," he asked testily. "We're standing in a Walker-proof field and you want to know how I got here? You dumbass."

She scowled at him, peeved at having her once peaceful dream ruined. "Whatever, you can show yourself out the same way you came in. I'm trying to relax and this is my damn dream, so you have to do what I tell you to and fuck off."

She settled back down and closed her eyes without waiting for a response from him. He preferred actions to words and this was the best way of showing him she wanted him to go away. But she could feel his shadow falling over her.

"So, I'm supposed to do what you tell me," he asked, sounding simultaneously irritated and amused. "Being that it's your dream and all. So, why are you dreaming about me?"

"Because I have the hots for you, Daryl Dixon," she deadpanned, opening one eye. She was pleased to find that he now looked absolutely horrified at her declaration and completely embarrassed. "Now go away. I'm waiting for Merle to get here so I can ask him something important."

"Where am I supposed to go? I don't even know where I am," he asked, finally getting over his embarrassment enough to snap at her in his usual gruff manner. He looked wary. She didn't blame him. It took awhile to get used to her dream world. She grinned to herself. It was funny to think Dream Daryl was just as suspicious of people and places as real world Daryl. She gave him another bemused look and rolled onto her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows and and kicking her legs in the air behind her. She was gratified by the look of confusion on Daryl's face. She almost giggled. Almost.

"I grew up here," she told him proudly and jerked a finger toward the farmhouse behind her. "I grew up in that one 'til my mom left and my Dad..." She frowned at the darker of the two memories and then pointed to the other farm house farther off. "Then, I lived there with the Johnsons."

Daryl stared off in the direction which she pointed with a thoughtful expression. "Seems like a nice place."

She rolled back onto her back and hummed in agreement. "Yes, it was. Probably shouldn't have left, but then I wouldn't be with you fine people stickin' it out in one of Georgia's finest correctional facilities."

Daryl collapsed in the grass not farm from her, never looking away from the house in the distance even as he began to gnaw on his thumb. "That where Jason lived, too?"

Julie sat up suddenly, feeling herself tense immeasurably. "How do you know about him?"

"Educated guess," Daryl answered evasively, "he try something with you or something?"

Julie snorted in derision at his assumption. "More like _un_educated guess. No, he didn't try anything I wasn't interested in. We were a thing for a real long time, but..."

She trailed off and let her eyes wander over the two dilapidated structures that held so much history for her. How did you explain the good when it was tarnished by so much bad?

"I had to move on from that," she settled on, watching as a bird landed on the roof of the closest home. "I used to get this itch all the time that said I needed to get moving. I got it real bad one day while we were in Georgia and I left. It seemed like the best time to. We were getting ready to call it quits soon, anyway. About three or four months later, is when the Roamers started popping up and I knew I had to keep moving."

"Sounds lonely," Daryl said in his quiet way. "I had Merle."

She nodded more to herself. "Yeah, it was lonely, but I didn't have to worry about anyone else. As long as I was okay, everything was perfect."

"So you worry now?"

She gave him a half grin and Daryl ignored her in favor of pulling grass up by the root. She went back to watching the bird hop along the roof of the house. "Yeah, I worry. Is Michonne gonna die out there all alone looking for the Governor? Is Rick finally gonna lose it completely? Will Judith get to grow up? Will Carl ever know what it's like to feel things properly? Will Glenn and Maggie ever get to start a family? Will Carol ever get over Sophia? Will Zach and Beth ever figure out what they're doing before it's too late?"

She shrugged feeling the familiar weight of it all press down on her again and she sat up, crossing her legs beneath herself. "I worry about you. Whether you'll ever be able to have a life outside of this when it's all over. You fit in this world and I don't want you to. I want you to be like the rest of them. I don't want you to be like me and Merle."

"You think you don't belong?"

"When good things come your way, you know to hold onto them and take care of them," she explained, choosing her words carefully. She avoided looking at him, afraid that in doing so, she might do something stupid. "Merle and I have a habit of throwing things away or running from them."

"Sounds about right," he agreed finally. He gave her another one of those guarded looks she always had trouble deciphering. If Daryl Dixon didn't want you to know what he was thinking or feeling, you wouldn't know. "So, what are you wanting to run from now?"

Julie sat up, startled and defensive. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged and gestured to their surroundings. "Well, I mean, you're here, talking to my dead brother. Which is the weirdest shit ever."

"I miss him."

"I miss him, too, but I ain't dreaming about him." Daryl stood up then and turned his back to her, stalking off toward the Roamers and the trees beyond the field. "Figure your shit out, Jules, then come find me."

Julie watched him disappear from view and then turned her eyes skyward, letting the sun blind her. She rolled over on her bed and sat up, rubbing her eyes and was met by the stillness of sleep that permeated the cell block. She rubbed the heel of her palms into her eyes and sniffed, trying to rid her mind of the mental image of Daryl walking away from her. Even though she had dreamt it, it still stung like hell. She wasn't going to be able to fall back asleep anytime soon.

"Fuck," she breathed out slowly as she yanked her boots on and bit her lip until it bled, so that she had a viable excuse for the tears pooling in her eyes. "Fuck!"

She kicked the leg of her bed and paced back and forth briefly before finally giving in and leaving her cell. There was no denying where she wanted to be. She needed to know. She needed the reassurance. Of course it was Carol sitting in the chair beside his bed, a candle burning down to nothing as she read a copy of "Lord of the Flies" without managing to look absolutely bored. She dog-eared the page when Julie stepped in the doorway of the cell uncertainly. She tucked her hair behind her ear and rapped her knuckled against the cinderblock wall nervously. "How's he doing?"

Carol gave her a smile that was less reassuring than she would have liked. "He stopped breathing for about a minute, but Maggie gave him CPR and got him going again. Scared us all half to-" She broke off and closed her book, laying it down on the table. "This is the worst it's ever been with him and he's fighting, so that's good enough for me to keep hoping."

Julie rapped her knuckles against the wall a bit harder and nodded, unable to look at the woman who was trying so hard to understand just what she was feeling. She stole a peak over at the bed. He was laying on his good side, facing the wall. She sniffed a bit and kicked at the wall, letting loose her frustrations for an instant and Carol stood up. "I could use a break. You mind watching him for a while?"

She nodded and let Carol pass her without a word. She lingered in the doorway a few minutes longer and then shuffled into the cell, pulling the bars shut behind herself. Finally, giving in to temptation, she pulled her boots from her feet and then slid in under the covers behind him. Julie rested her head against his back, ear pressed to warm flesh and silently thanked God when she felt and heard his heartbeat. Julie fitted herself to him as closely as she possibly could. Daryl let out a long drawn out sigh and Julie allowed herself one moment to entertain the idea that he had been waiting for her and that the relief she felt was mutual. She let her eyes fall shut then. They were both so very tired and if that meant they would turn, at least they would turn together.

* * *

The light from the barred windows outside the cell was what woke her the next day. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes slowly, sitting up halfway in the process. She cast a final glance at Daryl, who was still out cold and fell back onto the pillow and let out a small moan of displeasure before grumbling, "You Dixons are going to be the fucking death of me."

"I suppose that is very possible."

Julie's entire body froze and she reluctantly pushed her long hair out of her eyes. Hershel was sitting in the chair by the desk. The two regarded one another silently. "He needs his pain medication as soon as he wakes up. I don't need him messing up all the work I did and neither does he. Do you think you can handle that?"

Julie sat up and rubbed her eyes again, throwing her feet over the side of the bed. "Yeah, I can do that."

"Good," Hershel replied, pulling himself up with his crutch, "then you won't mind helping me change his bandages while we're in here."

It was a hard thing to stomach when she helped pull the gauze away. It was still bleeding, though not as heavily as she would have expected a serious wound to bleed and seeing the stitches was more than jarring. She had to turn away a couple of times to collect herself, but Hershel was patient with her and didn't comment on her squeamishness. Once they were finished, he held out a bowl of dry cornflakes that she hadn't noticed had been sitting on the table. She settled on the floor beside the bed while Hershel sat back down on the desk chair. They sat in silence, save for the loud crunch the cornflakes made every time she ate a mouthful.

"I see Maggie's warmed up to you a bit," Hershel said after a long while and Julie swallowed her dry cereal painfully and gave a half-shrug. "Glenn stuck his foot in his mouth. Made for some good bonding."

They nodded at one another in silence and Julie went back to eating her cereal. Hershel took the opportunity to properly excuse himself. "Well, it seems you have things under control here. I'll be nearby if you need me and I'll make sure to let Rick know you won't be working on the tower today."

"Thanks," she mumbled out around a mouthful. Hershel held a hand out and she gave him her empty bowl with a thankful smile. Once he was gone, Julie shut the cell door and pulled the chair over to Daryl's bedside and picked up Carol's book and decided to pick up where the other woman had left off. Piggy had just been killed. She was nearing the end, just as Ralph was being chased down the beach, when she felt eyes on her and looked over the top of the book to find Daryl watching her as if he wasn't sure whether she was there or not. She realized then she wasn't quite ready to say anything as she put the book down on the desk and reached for the water bottle and pain medication Hershel had left behind.

When she turned back to him, Daryl attempted to pull himself up and she pushed him back down without a second thought. Though she scowled, she refused to make eye contact. She felt exposed with how closely Daryl was scrutinizing her every move. She handed him the pills and water bottle and settled back in the chair, pulling her legs up to her chest and she picked at her nailbeds while Daryl stared at her neon yellow toenails like they were the most absurd thing he had ever seen in his life.

"I keep having these dreams," she told him softly, voice barely above a whisper, and Daryl looked up from her toes to her bent head. She could feel the uncertainty emanating from him, but she continued on. "And Merle's in them and I know you don't get what that whole thing was about, but that's because you found a place where you fit."

She shrugged over at him and looked away again. "We never did."

"What about now," he questioned, his voice as quiet as he own. She dropped one foot to the floor and he followed the line of her leg all the way down to the concrete. Her toes curled. "I'm trying really hard here," she admitted finally. "Everything in me tells me to do what he did because it's just easier that way. But I'm trying."

The silence between them was painful and Julie tugged on her hair. "Zach moved into his own cell a week ago."

"Beth kiss him yet," Daryl asked, though he really didn't care. He just wanted the awkwardness to go away. Julie snorted and rolled her hazel eyes. "Hell no. Hershel figured it out finally. I think he put Rick and the others up to keepin' them separate. You should see the amount of hoverin' Glenn does when the two of 'em are in the mess together."

She cut her eyes over to him. "You feel up to eating?"

He tried to shrug and winced when it pulled on his stitches. She raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't comment as she bent to tug on her boots. "How do stale as hell cornflakes sound? I'll try and snitch you a can of beans if I can manage."

"Flakes'll do fine on their own."

She snorted indelicately at that. "You need to eat as much as you can 'fore you die on me and I have to stab you in your eye before you turn."

"You suck at being a nurse."

"If you want someone to fawn over you, I can get Beth or Carol in here," she offered drily, smirking when he scowled, "maybe they'll fluff your pillow and spoon feed you a bowl of chicken soup while they read you Judith's copy of 'Goodnight, Moon'. That sound better?"

"Christ, Jules, I forgot how much of a bitch you are." The corner of his mouth twitched. She knocked on the cell bars and laughed over her shoulder at him. "Oh, you missed the hell out of me, Dixon."

Rick opened the cell and she slid out and then popped her head back in. "Do you want a book from the library?"

"Gimme something to sharpen," he replied gruffly, which only made her roll her eyes at him. "Ingrate," she grumbled as she stalked passed the former deputy, who watched her go with a wry grin. "She ain't tried to stab you yet, has she?"

"Give it a couple hours," Daryl offered back honestly and Rick scoffed as he stepped into the cell and shut it behind himself. He settled in the chair Julie had previously vacated and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as the pair studied one another thoughtfully. Rick spoke first. "You gave everyone a scare. A real good one, too."

"Scared myself," he admitted against his better judgment, "I thought I was a goner. Was seein' shit."

"You lost a lot of blood."

"Shit, you don't have to tell me that," Daryl told him, looking of through the cell bars from his place on the bed, "half the people in our cellblock were covered in it. Something tells me I got some more from somewhere."

"Zach," Rick agreed with a nod of his head, glancing toward the opening before lowering his voice. "Gave almost a pint. Me, Glenn, but mostly Zach."

"I'll have to thank him and Glenn. Thanks."

"You'd have done the same for me." Daryl didn't bother to nod; Rick was right. He would have done the same. Rick stretched his legs out in front of himself and rolled his neck around. "I thought we were done with all this after the farm."

"I'm full of surprises," Daryl replied easily, picking at his fingers. "Thought I'd change things up a bit."

"That's not funny," Rick said, though small smile on his face said otherwise. Just then, Julie stomped back into the cell holding a bowl of dry cereal, one of his whetstones, and a dull knife. "That ain't one of mine."

"Oh, no, it's not," she replied as she handed everything over to him. He narrowed his eyes at her. "The hell'd you get it from?"

"One of the Woodbury people was nice enough to volunteer it when I asked if anybody needed anything sharpened," she said nonchalantly. Daryl scowled at her. "Volunteered? Is that what you call it?"

"Yes, eat your breakfast, I have things to do and you being mouthy is getting in the way of that."

"What do you have to do that's so pressing? Do you have a date with your boyfriend to go swing dancing?"

Julie froze and cut her eyes over to him. Daryl had his head down as shoveled food in his mouth and chewed loudly. The muscles in his upper arm bunched each time he raised the spoon to his mouth, which was making her chest tingle with panic. She pursed her lips and then looked over to Rick. "You watch his ass. I'm not playing Nurse Nancy to someone who doesn't know how to show a little appreciation." She turned back to Daryl, who looked much more wary of her now that she was so clearly angry with him for some reason even she was unware of. She glowered at him hatefully. "Fuck off, Dixon, I hope you rip your fucking stitches."

"I think that meant 'a thank you would have been nice' in Julie speak."

"Girl's got problems," Daryl muttered and dropped his spoon into his half-eaten bowl of cereal. He wasn't too hungry anymore. His side was aching too badly to ignore any longer. Rick gave him a bemused grin. "You sure that's what it is?"

"Have you met her," Daryl retorted, "fucking lunatic loses her shit at the drop of a hat. _My_ hat. Walk into a fucking room and she wants to shoot my head off."

"Wonder why that is," Rick questioned rhetorically. Daryl cut his eyes at him and the former Sheriff's Deputy smirked to himself as he stood. "You need to rest and I'm sure it's about time for Hershel to come and give you your pain meds."

He watched wordlessly as Rick left and hunkered down under the thick blankets. He picked up the whetstone and the dull hunting knife, frowning at the blade. He had his work cut out for him.

* * *

It took one more week to complete the guard tower. The framework had held up, but it was the sheet glass that had to be replaced. They'd managed to weld the sheet metal on and even reinforced the roofing. As it had always been, Glenn and Maggie always took extra guard shifts. Julie supposed she would too if it meant she got to have more sex with the man she was in love with.

But falling in love was not something she ever planned on doing. Not after her father left her bleeding on the asphalt as she watched him walk away for good. And sure as hell not after she caught Jason in bed with her sister. That last one hadn't stung as badly as she had expected it would, but it still left an awfully bitter taste in her mouth. Especially when she found out that bitch of a sister had emptied her bank account. It was only far that she stole her car and sold it to a chop shop to make up the difference.

And then Merle Dixon came along with that insufferable swagger of his and gave her a glimmer of hope in a world that had disintegrated in a hurricane of gore and chaos. He had shown her that some people were worth loving. And then he was taken from her. The one time he chose to be selfless and it ended in her being heartbroken again.

Julie fingered the set of dog tags in her hands. They were the only reminder she had of the little bit of good that had belonged to her since before. She couldn't remember the sound of a television, the frenetic energy of a bar, or the smell of fresh air not tainted by rot and decay. But she could remember his laugh and she could remember the stories he told her and the secrets they shared.

But most of all, She could remember the pain of losing him. It was a war wound that had finally scarred over and the skin pulled painfully at times, but she could bear it.

She'd spent the last two weeks thinking. Julie had crawled back into her nonverbal shell and she'd exiled herself to the tower for night watch because there was nobody to ask questions. Zach didn't push her, but Beth and Carol were concerned. Rick was thoughtful, Maggie and Glenn were suspicious. Hershel was knowing. And Julie wasn't talking. The guard tower was perfect for not talking. The dead didn't ask questions and they let her keep her thoughts.

Julie's mother had loved her father, but she had hated everything about their lives together. She hadn't been meant for their small town, but she had stayed for the love she had for her husband and it slowly broke her down. Her mother had been caged. Julie could see that now and sometimes, she had glimpsed it then. Delia had been the type of woman a man fell in love with at first glance. Whenever she had visited her mother at the diner she worked at, there was always some man who promised to make all her dreams come true if she and Julie just ran away with him. Everyday. One right after the other. And maybe that was what had happened. She finally left with one of them.

The restlessness was inherited. She knew that now. But the sorrow was something learned. Jason and Mick's mother, Claire, was the one who had taught Julie to let herself feel it. She'd shown her as Claire Johnson had watched on helplessly while her husband went out and didn't come back for days on end. She'd died a little bit when Mick left and then Jason not long after. She took a handful of Xanax and washed it down with a bottle of wine when Julie left. Things were never the same between her and Jason when she finally found out. It hit her like a ton of bricks when she realized she'd left the only parent she'd ever really had. It had been Claire who fixed her dinner and showed her how to water her mother's garden and pull all the weeds. It had been Claire who helped her with her homework. It was Claire who sat in the waiting room during the surgery that saved her life after the car wreck. She slept in the chair beside Julie's bed and read her books. Claire gave her the love she wanted.

That was the first loss she felt. Merle was the second. But she had never thought either one was possible. Somehow, she had always assumed they would be there forever. And when they no longer were, it was jarring and she couldn't process it.

Daryl Dixon terrified her. She could admit that now. He was the first one that she was afraid of losing. The first person that she needed to keep around. At first, it had been because there was shared grief and a sense of comradery born out of mutual loss. He had grounded her and given her focus when she needed it-and she still very much did. He'd taken up Merle's place in her life, but something had shifted and caused an unbearable amount of tension. She couldn't figure out what it was that had changed or why it had made her so fearful for him. But knowing that one day, Daryl Dixon would die, tore at her daily.

It was irrational of her to expect Daryl to live out his days fenced in with the rest of the group while she went off into Roamer territory simply because she herself couldn't stand being stuck in one place for so long. It would have been unfair and she knew Daryl would never agree to it even if it meant keeping him from near mortal wounds, he would never resign himself to a life caged in. It wasn't who he was, which was the reason he was so magnetic. They were so alike in some ways that it was startling when she thought about it. It drew them together as if there was some sort of pull they wanted to fight but just couldn't bring themselves to. They were like waves crashing against one another; both eager to be near each other, but quickly clashing the moment they met.

Julie furrowed her brow and leaned against one of the supports as she watched the Roamers as they wandered in and out of the tree line of the woods surrounding the prison. With barely any activity inside the prison at night, the Roamers ambled around aimlessly. Often times, they came back and other times, they wandered out into the woods, drawn by the snapping of twigs courtesy of the squirrels who had quickly adapted to nocturnal behavior since the start of it all. Daryl came back with fewer and fewer squirrels most days. Rick had been going out daily to check the snares ever since Daryl and Michonne had left, but there hadn't been anything in weeks. They were going to have to go further out for food. That was going to be dangerous.

People were going to start dying soon. It was something Julie could feel in her bones and knew to be absolute. They'd had it good up until now and Daryl's injury had been a horrible omen. Things were going to get really bad soon and Julie had been spending a good couple days agonizing over whether she should cut her losses and go. Dying out on her own was more appealing than watching the group die off one by one or all at once. She didn't think she could keep it together if anything happened to Zach or Daryl. Or God forbid, Judith.

Her whole life, up until Merle, had prepared her for loneliness and a life with no weaknesses. Yet all those carefully built up walls had been breached. Sure, life had been lonely up until a few months ago, but it hadn't been nearly this painful.

As it was, her mind was warring with itself on many different subjects as she tried to make sense of what she should do next. It had never been a hard task for her, making decisions, but now...

Julie pulled herself from her thoughts as she heard a set of heavy footsteps slowly echoing up the staircase in the tower. Rick appeared not long after and she met his gaze briefly before she turned back to stare out into the darkness of night. Rick came to stand next to her and braced himself against the half wall in a similar fashion, his weight evenly dispersed as he leaned forward on his hands. "Been a quiet night."

She nodded and then turned to look at him. "What's goin' on, Rick?"

"I'm here to relieve you for the night."

She furrowed her brow at that and stood up fully. "No, I've got a double. I asked for it. If you're worried I'll fall asleep, I got enough on my mind to keep me going for days."

"I'm sure you do," he agreed, "but I need you to get some sleep. You're more useful in other areas than keeping watch up here and you know it. You're just avoiding something."

Julie bristled at the wholly accurate accusation and opened her mouth to object and he raised a hand to cut her off. "I don't know what it is that's got you so spooked, but it's got everyone else spooked. Maggie and Glenn think you've gone off the deep end. Carol, Carl, and Beth think you're gonna leave. Zach's twitchier than usual. And Daryl, well, he's angry. And I don't think it's just cause he's laid up right now."

"Rick-"

He waved her would be explanation off. "I don't need to know what's going on. Just that you're still with us. And you can show me that by going down to your cell and going to sleep."

Julie nodded wordlessly and handed her rifle over. Rick gave her a pleased smile and she smiled back. She paused when she reached the hatch and pulled it open. Then, she turned to look at him. "Thank you, for wanting me here. I don't know where my place is, but you've given me one and I appreciate that."

Rick gave her a self-deprecating nod. "Night, Jules."

"Night, Officer Friendly," she called back as she closed the hatch after herself, letting the somber mood she'd been in take over once again. The click of her boots across the concrete of the courtyard was the only sound to be heard as she warred within herself over the decisions she had to make. When she entered the cellblock, it was silent save for the soft sound of sleep filtering out of each occupied cell. The lantern in Daryl's cell was on, illuminating the tiny space behind the thin sheet he had hung for privacy. Julie paused outside her cell and glanced in, noting how empty and solitary the small space seemed. It was uninviting.

Julie decided to bite the bullet and try to get back on speaking terms with Daryl. Their relationship was no longer just rocky. There were literal instances where she couldn't look at him without getting thrown into an emotional sense of profound turmoil and it was terrifying. She stepped up to his cell, pulled back the sheet and hastily stepped in. She glanced from Daryl who looked up from Carol's copy of "Lord of the Flies" to her for a millisecond before he bit out. "The hell do you want? You think you're gonna crawl into my bed half-naked, you got another thing coming."

Julie's body lit up with heated embarrassment and she was only mildly gratified when what little of his face she could see over the paperback turned red. She opened and closed her mouth a couple times, trying to find the words to apologize-for what she wasn't even sure of-to address the elephant that always trampled around any room they were in. How on earth did you try to explain how you felt when you didn't know what it was you were feeling? Julie wanted to turn and leave him to finish reading, but she felt that somehow, this needed to be resolved. Things needed to be good between her and Daryl now.

"I'm trying really hard, I told you that," she started, her voice sounding pitiful even to her own ears, "I am. I just...it's hard. With you."

Daryl had always been an intense person. But with that admission that she had clearly never intended to make, he was suddenly overwhelming and she Julie pressed herself up against the wall, letting her eyes drop to the concrete below her feet. "It's easy for me with Zach because everything can be a joke. We can brush things off together and act like it's no big deal and then it isn't anymore. Zach's uncomplicated."

She chanced a glance at him to see that he was studiously studying the toes of her boots, though it was clear he was listening. He cut his eyes upward and their gazes clashed, jolting them both into looking away. "It's not easy with you because you saw the worst before all of this. Like I saw it. Like Carol did. Carol was thrown into it. We were born from it. You understand things without me having to say them and that's scary." She ran a shaky hand through her hair and pulled at the ends hard. "I don't know how to explain this properly."

She collapsed in the desk chair and met Daryl's gaze squarely, schooling her features to something more controlled. "About three months after it all went to hell, I was going through some woods, trying to come up on a cabin or some place I could scavenge from and I came up on this small clearing." She curled her fingers into the fabric of her leggings, nails biting into the exposed flesh of her knee where they'd ripped from normal wear and tear. "It was a really pretty clearing, plenty of shade and a nice patch of tall grass. Wildflowers, butterflies, sun beating down. Kind of place you see people taking wedding picture in for magazines. It was beautiful."

Daryl turned more toward her, letting the book drop to the floor. Julie pulled her hair over one shoulder. Her eyes were unfocused as she stared at where the book had fallen, though it was obvious she couldn't see it. "There were four of them. Just this normal family with a typical camping set up. But the tent was ripped up and bloody. The mother and father were tied to a tree, shot. And the little boy and the little girl weren't that far away. They were face down and the girl-some of her clothes were-she wasn't wearing them." Julie cleared her throat and blinked rapidly. "She was really little. And the brother-he was really small, too. They were reaching for each other. They'd had their heads bashed in, too. I put her clothes back on her and I put them in the tent together."

"Why're you telling me this," he asked, his rough voice barely above a whisper. Julie looked up at him then, her eyes full of tears that threatened to fall, but wouldn't. "Because even before I saw them, before I entered that clearing, I knew. I knew there was something awful in there. I could just feel it. It was the same feeling I had when my Mom told me goodbye when she left us. You know the feeling I'm talking about because you've felt it, too, more than anyone else here. It's the reason you and Merle never settled in one place for too long, the reason I never did. You were trying to outrun it. So was I."

She sat back in the chair and started to peel nail polish from her thumbnail. "I think, with you, I'm afraid I'll get that feeling one day. Or maybe that I won't. I don't know. Either way, I'm just sort of fucked."

"That's why you didn't want to join a group, isn't it," he asked softly, his guard having dropped some time ago. Julie nodded and tried to look everywhere but at him. "I just-caring for people, you have way more to lose that way than if it's just you out there. Surviving on your own isn't much, you don't stand to lose much. But when there's people who care about you that you care about? It's more than everything. If it was just me and Merle, it would be the two of us always together. We'd go down together. But here? I get to mourn you each individually. Even if it's someone I'm not fond of, it's still gonna hurt like hell. I don't want that, but it was forced on me."

"So, we're just some burden you have to suffer through," Daryl asked, a dangerous undercurrent to his voice. Julie's head shot up and she turned her hazel eyes to him, pinning him with a look full of desperation. "No, that's not what I meant at all. I meant that I care about all of you enough in my own way that if you died, it would hurt and I'm scared of that. I'm scared of the way you all make me care about you. That's why I get so mad when you leave to look for the Governor or to hunt or do a supply run-"

"But you don't get mad at no one else." She pursed her lips and looked away again and it was clear that she refused to speak further on that matter. He'd struck a very sensitive nerve it seemed and while this was surprising, Daryl couldn't figure out whether or not he was pleased or annoyed by this. It gave him an odd thrill knowing she worried about him to such a degree and that was something that agitated him greatly. But he refused to let on that it did so.

"I can take care of myself," he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest and wincing when it pulled at his side, which was still tender. Julie caught the pained expression that stole over his face. "You okay?"

"Fine," he snapped. There was little heat in his voice. "Tired is all."

He shifted in the small bed, fidgeting under her innocent scrutiny. "Couldn't sleep."

She rose to her feet, wringing her hands together. "Sorry, I'll let you go to sleep." She winced internally. She sounded lame and submissive in a way that was too painful to comprehend. _If this is what I get for trying to share my feelings with people, I fucking pass_. She turned on her heel and started to pull back the sheet when his halting words stopped her. "You could stay. If you want."

The small cell was shrouded in darkness then as he doused the lantern and Julie weighed her options heavily for a few beats before she began to pull of her boots. She dropped the shorts she had worn over her leggings atop her scuffed boots and tip-toed up to the bed. She slid in behind Daryl, who tensed up when she did so as he always did, but relaxed shortly thereafter. Julie took her time cuddling closer. Something about acknowledging that they did this with one another shifted things in a new direction that she hadn't considered and hadn't realized she would ever possibly entertain. Daryl had to understand the implications.

She pressed herself along his back and exhaled when she finally heard his heart thrumming in his chest. Daryl was already asleep. Julie followed not long after.

* * *

**Preview from Next Chapter:**

_"So it's settled then," Rick asked, hands on his hips as he looked between the two for confirmation. Glenn nodded reluctantly. Julie gave a tight smile, which Rick returned. "Alright, I'll leave it to you two to suss out who gets to tell Daryl what the stipulations are."_

_Their jaws dropped in unison as they watched the older man saunter away. "Rick, come on," Glenn whined while Julie stomped her foot, "that's not fair!"_

_"Shit," she hissed, before looking to Glenn who was as close to scowling at her as he could get. "This is your fault. You caved."_

_"I did not, it was the best option," she snipped and then stomped her foot again. "Alright, who's gonna tell him?"_

_"Well, since you got us in this mess, I think it should be you."_

_Julie let out a strangled cry of disbelief. "In your dreams, Rhee!"_

_"Well, I'm not doing it."_

_The two stared at one another intently, neither one willing to back down. Julie held both hands up. "How about Rock, paper, scissors? One match."_

_"You're on," Glenn agreed readily, holding up both hands in front of him._


	13. Chapter 13

**I do not own "The Walking Dead". Please read and review and thanks to those who have been reading and reviewing thus far. I really appreciate it and I apologize for the massive wait.**

* * *

Julie was so done with Daryl Dixon and his bullheadedness that it nearly killed her. She pinched the bridge of her nose and looked from Glenn, who was just as pleased with the situation as she was, to Rick, who looked like he wanted nothing more than to return to his tomato patch. "Can't you talk him out of this? He listens to you."

"This is going to get him killed," Glenn agreed, looking from Julie to Rick. "He's not healed enough. Hershel said so himself. There's no way I can take him out on a run."

"Yeah, and you saying I am going to somehow be able to keep him from doing something stupid is absurd," she told Rick heatedly, "he threw a book at me last night when I brought him his meds. The only reason it wasn't a knife is because Carol had enough sense to confiscate all of them when he passed out after he ate lunch."

"Which Hershel had to drug when he went insane over being told he needed to stay in bed for another four days. Which you are now overruling."

"This is the only way we can keep any eye on him," Rick tried to reason with the two, who were obviously not buying this argument as it was the third time he'd fed it to them. "Now, if we tell him no, he'll sneak out and then he really will kill himself." He stared at Julie hard until she looked away. "He may not listen to you all the time, but he listens to you enough that he won't do something reckless."

"What about his bike," Glenn asked, "he's gonna want to ride his bike."

"Well, he's not gonna," Julie said as if that were the end of that and she crossed her arms across her chest. "We tell him that's the price for going out against Hershel's advisement. He has to leave the bike here. We'll take Zach's car. He trusts Daryl, so he can be driver."

Glenn gave her a look that said he clearly thought this plan wouldn't work. "Can't we just knock him out again?"

Julie shook her head. "No, Rick's right. If we don't let him go, he'll sneak out. This is our best option, even if it's just a little less stupid than Daryl pulling a Houdini."

"So it's settled then," Rick asked, hands on his hips as he looked between the two for confirmation. Glenn nodded reluctantly. Julie gave a tight smile, which Rick returned.. "Alright, I'll leave it to you two to suss out who gets to tell Daryl what the stipulations are."

Their jaws dropped in unison as they watched the older man saunter away. "Rick, come on," Glenn whined while Julie stomped her foot, "that's not fair!"

"Shit," she hissed, before looking to Glenn who was as close to scowling at her as he could get. "This is your fault. You caved."

"I did not, it was the best option," she snipped and then stomped her foot again. "Alright, who's gonna tell him?"

"Well, since you got us in this mess, I think it should be you."

Julie let out a strangled cry of disbelief. "In your dreams, Rhee!"

"Well, I'm not doing it."

The two stared at one another intently, neither one willing to back down. Julie held both hands up. "How about Rock, paper, scissors? One match."

"You're on," Glenn agreed readily, holding up both hands in front of him. The first match was a draw with both throwing out rock. Expecting Glenn to go for rock a second time, Julie threw down paper and felt herself wilt when she saw Glenn had thrown out scissors. "You cheated," she complained and he rolled his eyes. "We threw them at the exact same time. You lose. Good luck."

He gave her a rough slap on the back and she frowned at him. "This was a stupid idea."

"Yes, it was," he hummed at as he walked back out into the courtyard. She lunged forward and latched onto his arm, hauling him back toward the direction of the cellblock. "Nuh-uh, just cause you won doesn't mean you get to walk away. You have to be there, too."

Glenn whimpered pathetically as Julie dragged him through the mess and towards the cells. She cast a warning glare over her shoulder when Glenn tried to drag his feet on the stairs.

When they reached his cell, Hershel had just finished bandaging his side and he tugged his sleeveless shirt down over his neck. Glenn gave her a look. "I'm not going in there," he whispered in her ear and she put her hand over his face and shoved him away. "Don't be such a baby. He's harmless."

Glenn let out some sort of surprised snort and she shot him a glare before smiling at Hershel as he left the cell. She leaned against the doorway and outright scowled when she noticed Glenn had inched far enough away that she was effectively left on her own.

She glanced back and watched as Daryl pulled the shirt down over his stomach and felt her face heat up in embarrassment as she caught sight of the muscles in his stomach flexing with every movement. "You come here to talk me out of going," he asked, and there was a warning to the edge in his voice. Julie finally looked up to his face and she must have had some sort of odd look to her because Daryl's defensive expression softened minutely. "You okay?"

"Yes," she snapped back, now as defensive as he was. They scowled at one another and then she picked at some dirt under one of her fingernails. "Glenn and I are perfectly fine with you coming with us so long as your bike stays behind."

"No," he said immediately as if that were the end of it. She crossed her arms and moved a little bit into the cell. "No, this is not negotiable. Either the bike stays or you both do."

"You ain't in charge," Daryl snarled and her expression dropped into something dark. "I am right now and I'm telling you that you aren't going if you try to get on that bike."

"How you gonna stop me," he challenged, stepping up to her quickly, but she didn't so much as flinch. "I'll tie you down and sit on you with my knife to your throat until Glenn and whoever he has to take with him comes back. And if I have to do that, I'm going to be very angry." Her eyes darted over his shoulder for an instant. "The bow stays, too."

"Like hell," he roared so loudly, that there was a clamor on the catwalk as Maggie, Michonne, and Tyreese barreled up the steps. Glenn had materialized in the doorway behind her, sensing that he might actually need to provide backup now.

"What's the drawback on that bow Daryl," she asked calmly, and Daryl stepped back from her. "Hundred and fifty? Hundred and sixty? You can carry as many guns and knives as you want, but you are not taking that bow."

"Think you can boss me around like you bossed Merle around," Daryl asked meanly. It was a low blow and it hit her like a truck, but she refused to bite back. "Yes, I do. Because Merle listened when he knew I was right. Just like you know I'm right now."

Daryl leaned one hand against the cinderblock wall and studied her. "You think you got me figured, do you?"

Julie did bristle at that. She stepped around him, tensing as she felt his eyes follow her. She picked up his vest and threw it at him, her expression betraying none of the nervousness he had suddenly instilled in her. "Get the rest of your shit together and meet us outside. We're wasting time here." She stepped around him then and stalked out of the cell and down the catwalk without a backward look. When she arrived outside, Zach was busy stocking the trunk of his car with supplies. She picked up two jugs of rainwater and set them in the trunk next to a small duffel full of extra ammo. Glenn came up beside her and Julie effectively ignored him until she couldn't any longer. She pinned him with an overly defensive look. "What?"

Glenn watched her as she went back to packing the last of their supplies. "Nothing," he said finally, "I'll take shot gun."

"Sounds good," she said in a monotone.

"Is this a good idea," Maggie questioned as she came up to the trio. Glenn's shoulders sagged. "No," he lamented lamely, "it's a terrible idea."

"Don't be a Daryl Downer," Julie scolded as she closed the trunk and Zach snickered behind his hand as he backed away from the group toward Beth who was standing not far off waiting to say goodbye. Julie quirked a quick smile as she watched him and then grinned full out as she watched Beth take ahold of his hand.

"So, you're okay with that," Maggie asked, nodding toward the pair when Julie looked to her. Julie looked at her in confusion. "Why wouldn't I be?" She watched the other woman as if there was something wrong with her. "Are you not happy with it? I mean, it's good, right?"

"Yeah, I just thought-"

"Here comes Daryl," Glenn cut in, pushing between the two women. Julie shoved him in the back. "Rude much?"

Glenn rolled his eyes and then stumbled when Daryl bumped his shoulder when he passed him. "Can we just get this going?"

"Do you plan on being this pleasant the entire time," Julie asked sarcastically, as she climbed into the back of the car. Glenn gave Maggie another kiss goodbye and followed after Julie. Julie hunched down in her seat with a sour look on her face. "This blows. Could it get any worse?"

"Why the hell would you say that," Glenn snapped, looking like he wanted to bolt from the car. "Way to jinx everything."

Zach and Daryl got into the car simultaneously and Zach shot Julie a nervous smile over his shoulder. It wasn't until the quartet was out on the road that anyone spoke. "Where are we headed?"

"Mini-mall," Glenn answered Zach from the back of the car. "We've never been before, because it's always been overrun, but we're going to check and see if the herds have moved. If they haven't, we're gonna drive further up to a housing development. So, we've got a couple hours until we get anywhere."

Another twenty minutes passed in silence before Glenn spoke up. "Julie," he began hesitantly, "do you ever wonder what happened to your sister?"

"No," she replied easily, though her voice held and edge of warning. Daryl darted a glance at her in the rearview mirror. She had her face turned toward the window. She looked tired.

"I wonder if my sisters are alive." Julie didn't respond and Daryl saw Zach roll his eyes out of the corner of his eye. Zach spoke then. "What'd you do before all this?"

"Pizza delivery," Glenn intoned and Zach let out a small laugh. "No, shit. What was it you did again, Julie?"

Julie snorted at the lack of subtlety. "Nice try, Double-O-Seven."

"It was worth a shot." He grinned and shrugged at her and she shook her head and leaned her head against the back of her seat. "Wake me when we get there or if there's trouble."

When Glenn shook her awake gently, Julie sat up slowly and pulled her hair up into a ponytail as she yawned. Daryl had already gotten out of the car and Zach was just getting out himself, stretching his legs and groaning as he did so.

"When we come up on the mall, we're gonna get a layout on things and figure if we go through the loading area or the front."

"Maybe we should have brought more people," Glenn broke in, looking less confident than he had back at the prison, "This isn't exactly a small place. It's not like a few stores in a small town. It's a fucking mall."

"More people means a wider margin of error."

"It also means more protection."

"And less capable people in charge at the prison if something happens to us," Julie cut in, drawing the other three's attention, "two council members are already out on this run. You saying you'd want to add more because they're the best."

A small silence ensued and Julie took a deep breath before continuing as Daryl looked over his shot gun for a third time. "Look, we'll do a quick perimeter sweep and if it looks too sketchy, we'll leave. Zach can stay with the car-"

"By myself?!"

Julie pinned him with a heated look. "You can handle it."

"Doesn't mean I have to like it," he mumbled, crossing his arms and falling to lean against the hood of the car. Glenn popped the trunk and they began pulling out their supplies. Glenn looked to Zach. "It's fifteen minutes walk from here. If we're not back in an hour and a half, go back for help."

Zach nodded and climbed into the driver's seat. Julie gave him a weak smile as he shut the car door, let out a sigh. Her confidence was beginning to wane as well. She could feel that itch between her shoulder blades starting up and it was making her antsy. She couldn't stop herself from grimacing as the trio started off. They were silent as they approached the mini-mall. Daryl let out a colorful string of curses as they ducked out of sight of the walker-filled parking lot.

Julie could feel her heart thrum in her chest frantically, her entire body beginning to lock up in fright. Glenn was muttering to himself. "We need to just go there's no way we can risk drawing that herd's attention. We draw the attention of one, we could draw all of them."

"Well, let's get a look at the back first. It might be clear," Daryl said, pointing toward the area of the mall that was blocked from view. Julie tried not to scoff and Glenn actually did. "And what if the herd's back there? We have no cover on that side. None. That's why we came in from this direction. And even if it's clear, what if there's a herd inside?"

"I'm hearin' a whole lot of 'what ifs' and nothin' else," he turned his steely eyes to her. "What about you, Jules? You in?"

"This is fucking suicide, Dixon," Julie said heatedly, "The three of us cannot handle this, regardless of what happens. We need to back off and go back. We can try on of the housing developments not far off. The herd probably came from there anyway."

"Those houses have probably been picked over."

"Not if the herd came from there." The three exchanged loaded looks and Daryl finally relented. "Fine, can't go back empty handed and that might be our best option."

Zach was surprised to see them when they reached the charger. Daryl threw open the car door and gestured for him to get out. "Change of plans, kid. We're going house huntin'."

"Okay," Zach said haltingly, drawing out the 'O'. He looked between Glenn and Julie as Daryl began stuffing all their supplies back in the trunk of the car hastily. Both looked nonplussed with the situation and Zach's shoulder's slumped. He trudged around the front of the car and leaned against the passenger door. "Swarmed, huh?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," Glenn responded bitterly as he tossed his knapsack into the trunk just before Daryl slammed it shut. Julie and Glenn slid into the back of the car and then Daryl settled in the driver's seat, slamming the door shut.

The streets of the housing development were strewn with random bits of debris and, like every other street in they'd come across, littered with decayed bodies. There wasn't a walker in sight and they collectively breathed a sigh of relief. Daryl glanced back toward Glenn. "Guess we know where they all went."

They stopped halfway down the block and quietly went through the motions of readying themselves. Glenn gestured to the very end of the street, which was a cul de sac. "Let's start down there and work our way back. We'll go as one unit, one house at a time."

They all nodded and fell in step together. The first house they went to was a two-story with a modest porch and flowerbed full of weeds and a sun-bleached Lazyboy laying in the middle of the front yard next to a metal mailbox that was bashed to hell. There was a gray pickup parked in the driveway and Daryl was the first to approach it. He cupped his hand around his eyes and glanced in through the window. "Rig looks like it's bein' taken care of."

He walked around the front and placed his hand on the hood and then looked to the three standing nearby. "Still warm."

Zach cursed under his breath and Julie felt an uneasiness begin to sweep through her. She let her hand fall to the machete strapped to her thigh and gripped its handle tightly.

"Shit," Glenn bit out, running a hand down his tired face. "Okay, well, we sweep like it's any other house, except we know it's occupied. If they're hostile..."

He let his words trail off and everyone felt the weight in them. Julie wasn't as bothered as the others, she knew that. She'd never had much faith in humanity and it didn't really ruffle her much to know she might have to kill some people to keep going. Feeling eyes on her she looked up to find Daryl watching her intently, an thoughtful expression on his face as Glenn led them toward the front door. She looked away from him wordlessly and focused all her attention on the front door as Zach popped it open with the crowbar and Glenn took point. She followed close behind, gun drawn and split left when Glenn went right.

Furniture was tossed haphazardly across the room and there was shattered glass littered across the hardwood floors. It crunched under her boots a bit too loudly for her liking and she fought not to wince with ever footstep she made. They cleared the first floor without incident. She and Zach led the way to the second floor.

"You ever wonder what happened to people," Zach asked as he studied the framed photographs on the wall, "I mean, stop to think about it?"

"They're dead," Glenn replied, his voice dull. Julie could practically feel Zach's expression as it fell. She stopped, one foot on the landing and paused to study one of the pictures. Three blonde, elementary age children, one girl and two boys were laughing and smiling as they sat in the tall grass on a blanket with their arms wrapped around one another. The girl was missing her two front teeth and one of the boys was smiling so widely his eyes were squeezed shut.

"I like to think they made it," she admitted, her heart aching at the thought of them, "the children, at least. My childhood was shit, but it was a trip to Disneyworld compared to what the world is now. I like to pretend they're still alive and nothing ever changed for them. As far as I'm concerned, they're still out getting ice cream with their parents."

The three men watched her. Zach and Glenn looked surprised. Daryl looked curious. She averted her gaze to the ground, shifted her weight from foot to foot self-consciously.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Glenn said finally and there was no judgment in his voice. Though she didn't look up, she nodded and stepped up onto the second floor.

There were two doors to the immediate right, the first being a linen closet and the second was a bathroom. The hall forked to the left, the railing overlooking the living room. There was two doorways to the left and one straight ahead.

When Glenn and Zach ventured left, Julie crept forward and kicked the door further ajar. It turned out to be the master bedroom. The room seemed relatively untouched save for the thin layer of dust that covered the dresser and nightstands on either side of the queen sized bed. There was a camel colored bedspread and beaded pillows, the walls were painted a light blue and there were several landscape photographs framed along with the family photos that littered the walls. It was a nice house that had belonged to a nice family. Julie suddenly felt very tired of it all.

She dropped down on the foot of the bed and stared straight ahead at the vanity mirror across from her. Her hair was stringy and greasy from not having been washed in several days. Her skin was covered in dirt and grime and her reflection looked every bit as tired as she felt. She lowered her eyes to the cream colored carpet under her feet and tried not to think about the people who had lived there anymore. Or why the hell it even bothered her. It wasn't as if that house was any different from any of the other houses she'd scavenged from since the beginning.

"You okay," Daryl asked uncertainly from the doorway. When she looked up at him, cringed away from her uncomfortably and it was only then she realized she had teared up. "Want me to go get Zach?"

She shook her head adamantly and wiped at her face. "No, I'll be okay. I just-" She let out an exasperated sigh and shook her head again, frowning. "I just let it get to me is all."

Daryl crossed the room wordlessly and settled down next to her on the bed. "It happens," he said as he looked at her. Julie kept her eyes on the floor, scuffing her boot over the carpet, looking for any distraction to keep her from feeling as hopeless as she had felt only moments ago. She looked to him finally and swallowed thickly so she could get the words past the lump in her throat. "Nobody deserved this," she croaked out, "The world didn't deserve this."

They both dropped their gazes to the ground and Julie was thankful for the supportive silence Daryl Dixon always seemed to being willing to provide for her. Daryl bumped her arm after a few more moments. "C'mon, let's finish this house off and get out of here."

Julie gave him a barely visible smile and followed, going to the closet as Daryl went to the clear the master bathroom. Just as she turned the doorknob, the door burst open and everything went dark.

* * *

Watching Julie as she fell back to the carpeted flooring like a ragdoll had been nothing short of horrifying for Daryl. As he'd stepped back through the doorway from the bathroom to tell her it was clear, he hadn't expected to see two women burst out of the closet, the first of the pair having hit Julie over the head with the butt of her rifle while the second looked on in shock and annoyance, her own rifle pointed at Julie, who was out cold and bleeding from a gash on her forehead. Daryl had his shotgun leveled on the two women in an instant, sparing a glance to his unconscious friend, who looked as though she wouldn't be coming around any time soon.

Neither woman looked like they quite knew how to proceed, but Julie's collapse had apparently been loud enough that Glenn and Zach came running. Glenn stopped short in the door way and held Zach back when he let out a cry of outrage at seeing Julie sprawled out with a head wound. The second of the two women turned her gun on the pair without a second thought and Daryl knew in that second that this woman was the one in charge. "Don't move."

"It's three on two, lady," Daryl snarled, seeing red, "the odds ain't in your favor."

She studied him coolly, the look in her icy blue eyes calculating and then stepped forward and pressed the barrel of his rifle against Julie's temple. "You make one move and I splatter her brains all over this room."

"You're bluffing," Glenn countered. Daryl lowered his shotgun without hesitation. "She ain't."

"There's a good hillbilly," she said tauntingly, "now, if you three would be so kind as to move out of the way, we can wrap this up real nice."

She jerked her head toward Daryl and Zach and Glenn moved into the room to stand next to him with their hands raised, matching looks of anger on their faces. The first woman moved toward the door while the one in charge called back to the closet, "we're leaving, let's go."

A dark skinned man popped his head around the door frame and took in the scene before him, paling slightly before he frowned down at Julie's unconscious body. "We can't just leave her like that."

"We can and we will," the woman argued back, sounding perturbed by her friend's reluctance to leave. She used one hand to grab him by the shirt sleeve and he pulled his arm out of her grasp violently. "She could be seriously injured."

The brunette narrowed her eyes and scowled. "That's not our problem."

"I didn't mean to hit her so hard," the other woman admitted, looking sheepish. She darted a nervous glance over to Daryl, who could feel himself beginning to vibrate with unsettled energy. If they didn't leave so he could check on Julie soon, there was going to be a bloodbath. "I panicked."

"You panicked so you fucking bashed her face in," he roared, startling every one in the room so badly that they all jumped. The brunette in charge brought her rifle up on him. The man had his hands raised in surrender, Glenn had redrawn his gun and Zach and the other woman both looked frightened beyond belief. Zach hadn't taken his eyes off the gash on Julie's forehead since they'd come into the room.

"That's a lot of blood," he said softly and his words caused Daryl's stomach to turn over and send a powerful wave of nausea through his entire body. He blinked the sweat from his eyes that had suddenly begun pouring down his face.

"He wounds tend to bleed uncontrollably, but that doesn't mean they're serious," the man tried to assure Zach kindly. The three eyed him up and down and he managed to smile a bit. "I'm a doctor."

"Fix her," Daryl ordered, "then get the hell out of here 'fore I shoot all three of you."

The three looked surprised and he ignored the questioning look her could feel Glenn giving him. The man nodded and knelt beside Julie, pulling a bag from his shoulder that Daryl hadn't noticed he was carrying. He watched as the man gently tilted Julie's head to study her head wound and gently lifted each pupil. He then opened his bag and pulled out some gauze and a bottle of iodine followed by a surgical needle. "She's going to need some stitches. I've done this plenty of times, so there will be minimal scaring."

Daryl couldn't remember having moved, but he was down on the ground at Julie's head, watching as the doctor threaded the needle with practiced ease before he cleaned the blood from her forehead. He settled Daryl with a pointed look. "I don't have any local anesthetic. It's best I do this while she's still unconscious. Just hold her head still in case she comes to."

He didn't need to be told twice and he cupped her head firmly in his hands. Zach settled on the floor and grabbed ahold of her hand. "She'll be okay when she wakes up, right?"

"Is she your sister," the doctor asked. Zach held his gaze. "My friend. She's my best friend."

"I didn't mean to hit her so hard," the woman tried to apologize, giving Zach a sad look. Daryl scowled up at her hatefully. "Just shut the fuck up."

The woman drew back and all the color drained away from her at the look of pure hostility on Daryl's face. If the doctor hadn't needed him to hold Julie still, there was a very good chance he would have beaten the woman to death. Daryl didn't know just why he was so angry and that was making it even worse.

"We were just trying to look out for ourselves." Daryl almost got up to punch the leader at that. Almost

"Yeah, well the best way to do that isn't by attacking every single person you meet," Glenn snapped back and he was starting to look a great deal upset as well. "it's a good way to get yourself shot."

"You wouldn't shoot us." She didn't sound so sure. Daryl leveled her with his best stare down. "I still might."

She clenched her jaw and didn't say anything further. Glenn looked between Zach and Daryl. "We're gonna have to go back. We can't stay out here any longer."

"No shit," Daryl snapped before looking at the doctor. "You done yet?"

"Five more minutes," he assured Daryl. Daryl let out a huff of air in exasperation and Zach frowned down at Julie's hand, which lay limply in his own. "She's gonna wake up, right?"

"Yes," Daryl said in a voice that brooked no argument. "She'll be fine. We just gotta get her out of here."

"You guys have a camp?"

A heavy silence fell over them as Daryl pinned the woman with a look so full of hostile energy, everyone reeled back slightly. "If we did, do you think we'd take you back? The bitch who bashed her face in?"

"Hey, she said it was self-defense and it was," the woman in charge cut in, placing herself between them. "Your girlfriend will be fine, so get that self-righteous stick out of your ass."

"Ain't my girl."

The brunette scoffed as if his correction were the most absurd thing she had heard in her life. "Okay, and the dead _don't_ eat the living."

"We take care of our own," Glenn said, trying to keep hostilities to a minimum and back Daryl as best he could, thought by the way Daryl had come unhinged, he was wondering if there wasn't a degree of truth in the woman's words. The woman pursed her lips and watched Glenn, mulling over her options in her head. "Your group, been together long?"

Daryl and Zach looked between the two and Daryl shook his head when Glenn glanced toward him. Glenn spoke against his advisement. "Some of us since the beginning. Others not too long after that."

The woman opened her mouth to speak and Zach was the one who cut her off. "How many walkers have you killed?"

"Enough," she answered with a sly smile, "The doctor bandages me up and I she backs me up."

If Zach was amused in any way by her coyness, he didn't let on. "How many people have you killed?"

"Two," she admitted and her smile dropped. Zach stood and crossed his arms over his chest, his stony expression much more threatening than anyone had expected he could pull off. "Why?"

"Because it was them or me," she snapped and stepped up to him, "is that going to be a problem?"

Zach didn't respond as he settled back on the carpet to hold his friend's hand. Daryl looked to the man who was still busy sewing up Julie's forehead with intense concentration. "I've never killed anyone, if that's what you're wondering," the man said easily, "I've never been given a reason to. And I'm barely a decent shot. My hands are better suited for healing than harming."

"Oh yeah, what about Pistol-Whip Annie over there," Daryl asked meanly, jerking his head in the woman's direction. She managed to look wounded at Daryl's insult, but answered anyway. "Never hurt a person before today. Last people we ran across weren't too friendly. They're-they're the ones she was talkin' about."

"Done," the doctor declared, snipping the thread and pulling away from Julie. Daryl looked to Zach. "You think you can handle carrying her? Glenn and I will cover you."

Zach nodded instantly and moved to gather her in his arms with Daryl's assistance. He pulled a relatively clean red rag from his back pocket and handed it to the teen. "If she starts bleeding again," he explained, as he picked up his shot gun. Glenn moved to the door way and looked out. "I don't hear anything, we should be good."

Daryl sighed heavily. "Gettin' on to her for jinxing us and there you go. Let's call it when we get home, okay?"

"I'll go first." Glenn was halfway down the stairs when the brunette in charge asked in outrage, "You're just gonna leave us here?"

"Probably shouldn't act like such a raving bitch," Zach reasoned coldly as he cradled Julie's limp body in his arms, "and knocking them unconscious then expecting them to help really isn't the way to go about things."

"Good way to get shot," Daryl agreed as he pumped the shot gun once. Glenn heaved a sigh of irritation. "Look, you can follow us back, but that doesn't mean you're automatically in. So, you know, if it's decided you can't stay, you can't stay."

There were five walkers in the front yard and six more shambling down the street when they got outside. "Knives only," Glenn said, " You watch out for them and I'll clear the way."

"Shoulda let me bring my fuckin' bow," Daryl muttered out as Glenn shoved his blade through the temple of one particularly decrepit corpse and shoved its limp body into the one directly behind it. Just as he had taken out another one that staggered out from around a two-toned Oldsmobile, Daryl whistled to get his attention and pointed toward the line of tree separating the house on the left from the houses on the next street over. "You hear that?"

"They're coming back." Glenn let out a curse and waved his hand hurriedly. "We gotta go, now." Several walkers stumbled out from the tree line, their shuffling paces picking up at the sight of the living and they began chomping and snarling vigorously. Daryl tore Julie from Zach's arms, thrusting his shotgun into Zach's hands and hauled the unconscious girl over his shoulder, letting out a growl of pain when the action tore at his side painfully. _Looks like she ain't the only one getting stitches today._

Zach managed to blow one walkers face off halfway, but it still wasn't enough to bring him down. However, the power from the blast managed to push him back enough that he was no longer a threat. One arm clamped firmly around the back of Julie's thighs to keep from Falling of his shoulder, Daryl used his free hand, pull his .38 out from the waistband of the back of his pants. By the time they were halfway to the car, there were walkers closing in from both sides of the street and it was an endless stream of bodies. Zach had run out of ammo long before. "Maybe we can push to one of the houses, get up on the roof."

"We can't wait this out, they'll find a way," Glenn replied as he took out another one as it stumbled into the line of fire.

"One of us can stay behind," Daryl offered quietly and Zach whirled on him. "No."

"We stay together, they way we always have." Glenn told him somberly and turned back, jamming him knife into the forehead of dried out walker. His face crumpled like sawdust as he collapsed and Glenn pulled his knife easily. A horn blared directly behind them and several walkers went flying. The brunette in the cab of the truck gave them a cocky grin. "You boys need a lift?"

Not needing to be asked twice, Daryl passed Julie off to the doctor, who was in the bed of the truck and then climbed up himself, followed by Zach, and lastly Glenn.

They stopped several blocks away and Glenn and the brunette picked walker guts and blood out of the front grill while Zach looked the engine over. He slammed the hood shut after a few minutes and looked around the side toward Daryl. "It's not bad, but it's not great. Needs more oil, batteries on it's last leg and the radiator isn't gonna last too long, but it'll get us home."

"Don't worry, we'll come back for the car," Glenn promised, "when we get back, me, you, and Maggie can come back and get it."

Daryl pulled a bent Marlboro from his vest pocket and lit it, casting a sideways glance to Julie. She was still unconscious and the stitches in her forehead were an angry red. There was an ugliness to it that bothered him much more than any other injury another person had suffered ever had.

"You know, smoking's bad for you," the doctor told him. He snorted in derision. "Yeah, so's being ate up by the dead. 'Sides, I've had a hell of a day."

* * *

Julie blinked lethargically as she turned in a circle, looking around the grassy field in confusion. The last thing she could remember was opening the closet door in the house they'd been scavenging in. However, now, she was standing in the grassy field from her childhood, watching as the graying clouds of a thunderstorm rolled through the sky, bringing a harsh wind along with it that blew the grass violently and caused her skin to break out in goosebumps. Julie hugged her arms around herself in an attempt to ward off the cold.

The perimeter of the field was devoid of any of the usual milling corpses. There was something foreboding in that. Something that set Julie on edge in a way nothing ever had. Far off in the distance, thunder rumbled through the sky as the grass whipped around and the wind picked up.

"Storm's comin'." She jumped and whirled to find Merle standing before her with a solemn look on his face, which was turned toward the blackening sky. Finally, he slowly turned to face her, no trace of humor in his face. "Better get inside 'fore you get caught up in it."

"The Roamers? Where are they?"

"Waiting for the storm to hit. Like everyone else," he informed her, before holding his hand out toward her, "C'mon, Girl. Come with me. I'll keep you safe."

She eyed his hand suspiciously and his expression dropped into one of defeated sadness. "So, that's it then, ain't it?"

Julie hugged her arms around herself and inhaled sharply. Somehow, even though he wasn't there and nothing she was experiencing was real, she could smell Daryl all around her. It told her where she needed to be, anchored her to something true. She gave Merle an apologetic look and felt her eyes well up with tears. "I don't belong here, Merle. As bad as you and I want, I don't belong here."

He nodded reluctantly, line pressed in a grim line as if her words left a sourness hanging in the air between them. "Cause of Daryl," Merle corrected, and there was a bitter sadness to his rough words that cut with a deepness she didn't expect. She suspected he felt she was choosing Daryl over him, but it wasn't that at all. There was no way she could choose Merle to begin with; he was gone from this world and she needed to make her peace with it. That was all. Wasn't it?

Wind howled between them and she shivered, her teeth chattering. It was getting so very cold so very quickly. Merle let his eyes wander over her shaking form. "Yeah, he really was the sweet one. Momma always liked him best, too."

"No, Merle," she argued, shaking her head, "it's not-"

He held a hand up to stop her and gave her an easy smile. "Naw, I ain't mad. Surprised is all." He let out one of his trademark snorts of amusement and shook his head as he studied the tall grass. "Surprised he had it in him."

Julie couldn't mask the confusion she felt at his words, but she didn't comment as they studied one another in silence. She dropped her gaze to the grass and watched as it flattened against the ground as the wind forced it to yield. The spark of guilt she had felt at his words was dimming slowly but steadily. "Even if I stayed, would it change anything?"

Thunder cracked again, loud enough that the earth vibrated faintly with the intensity and the fields of grass far beyond the two farm houses-both so washed out and frail-undulated like an otherworldly ocean, a chorus of undying moans rising with it and the cacophony of it caused her to recoil as she realized it wasn't the grass that was swaying toward them. She turned her terror-filled eyes to Merle, whose expression was nearly as dark as the near black sky.

"You don't belong here, you belong with them, you belong with the storm," He advanced on her slowly and Julie thought, her body numb with fear, _This is all wrong._

"Run," he urged her, and lightning lit up the sky, blinding her for a fraction of a second and illuminating the ocean of undead that was staggering toward them much faster than she'd ever thought possible as they gnashed their teeth and reached out their leathery, emaciated limbs toward her. Julie didn't need to be told twice.

"Run for your life, Peaches," Merle's voice boomed after her as she broke into the tree at a dead run. It echoed through the trees as if he were standing right over her should, "you run 'til you get there and don't you dare look back! Don't you look back!"

The heavens opened up then, pouring down icy rain in fat, stinging droplets that quickly turned the dirt and leaves below her into muck. Her feet sank into the mire deeper and deeper with each step and her muscles burned with exhaustion. Julie screamed in pain as she pulled herself along, using fallen tree branches, rocks, anything to drag herself from the muck that held her in place. The legion of walkers was gaining on her, she could hear them and their groans of unending hunger as they clamored after her at a steady pace that was as undying as their decaying bodies.

Using a sapling as leverage, Julie manage to pull herself up the foot of a hill, driving her hands into the mud in a mad bid for purchase as she let out a howl of frustration and pain and her feet slipped and she lost her footing yet again. She slid halfway down the hill and something clawed at her booted foot. She kicked it away wildly and clung to the soaking ground. Everything in her ached. Every muscle, every breath, every blink of her exhausted eyes. Her bones felt ready to snap. Still, she reached one hand up, dug her fist into the earth and pulled herself up.

She had to keep going. She had no guns, no knives, and no shelter. There was nothing she could do, but run as Merle had told her to. She had to run. There was no other option. Julie had to run until she got there. Wherever there was. Something in her gut told her it was just out of reach, just too far over the hill for her to grasp it. She was nearly to the top when her legs finally gave out and she started sliding back into the ravenous herd below.

And she screamed as she reached into the air above her. Her body jerked as something warm and solid hooked itself around her wrist and she clutched it, bringing her other hand up to grab on and help pull herself up. She couldn't stop the tears of relief, of pure joy from falling as her eyes were met with a piercing blue so intense it made tore at her. Daryl. He pulled her up with one sharp tug, sending them both flying to the ground at the top of the hill.

Panting, they both lay prone, until Daryl finally sat up and peered over the edge of the hill. Seemingly satisfied with what he saw, he fell back again to lay beside her as they fought to catch their breath, unconcerned with the freezing rain that pelted them. When their breathing slowed, he sat up and turned to her, leaning forward slightly.

"You okay," he asked roughly and he reached out toward her as she sat up. Julie opened her mouth to answer, but her words died in her throat as he gently pushed her soaked hair from her face and thumbed the mud from her cheek. The fear she had felt from earlier remained, only now it was caused by something much different, something much more terrifying than a herd of walkers.

"Jules," he asked, cupping her face, and Julie opened her mouth to respond as movement caught her attention over his shoulder. Shocked by his presence, Julie didn't speak at first. Not until Daryl lurched forward and the knife pushed through his sternum. Merle, his skin as grey and rotted as the rioting swarm she'd escaped, grabbed ahold of Daryl's shoulder and sank his rotted teeth into his younger brother's neck.

"Daryl, no," she wailed as she pulled Merle by his hair off of him and threw him down hard. Merle reached for her, his lips curling back as he bared his teeth and without hesitation, Julie brought her boot down on his face with a feral cry. One, two, three. She stomped until there was nothing but grey pulp in its place. Stunned by her own actions, Julie looked around in a daze before she remembered what had happened and she fell to her knees beside Daryl and pulled the collar of his shirt and vest away. The heavy rainfall quickly washed away the blood and Julie frowned in confusion at the absence of bite marks. He pushed her away with a gentle, but firm hand and sat up. "You killed Merle."

"He turned and bit you," she blurted to defend herself and he grabbed her arms to stop her impending hysterics. "I know, just calm down, just calm the fuck down."

She glanced over toward the lifeless body beside her and gulped in large amounts of air to try and calm down. "Oh fuck, I can't believe I killed him."

Daryl was the first on his feet and he pulled her up by her forearms. "C'mon, we need to get out of here."

"Keep running," she agreed as he let go of one of her arms. His other hand trailed the length of her arm and he clasped her hand, entwining their fingers without comment, which Julie realized only vaguely, was quite odd. They looked left and right down the length of the road and then he turned to her. "What do you want? What's it going to be?"

"What? I don't understand," She shifted uncomfortably under his heated gaze and tried surreptitiously to pry her hand from his. "We have to keep going. We're running out of time!"

He tugged her toward him. "Which is why you have to pick one!"

"So, which is it," Merle's voice asked from behind her. Julie jumped and whirled around, her eyes wide, "How? I killed-you can't be."

She turned back to look at the younger of the pair and his eyes were icier than the torrential rain that had frozen her limbs. She stumbled back a step at the blank expression on his face. "Too late," he said ominously and as lightning cracked above them and his face morphed, his eyes clouded over, and he lunged at her, clamping his slavering jaws onto her neck and he bit down hard. Julie felt herself slam back onto the pavement and although she could hear the sound of Daryl tearing into the flesh of her neck, her body was so numb from the down pour that she couldn't feel it. Large black spots began to dance in her line of sight and then Daryl was looming over her, her blood smeared across his face. His snarled down at her and leaned forward.

Julie jumped then, shooting forward in her bed with a strangled cry. Gasping for air, she pressed her hands to her neck and her face and hissed when her hand hit her tender forehead.

"Whoa, Jules, s'okay," a familiar drawl said from beside her and when he reached his hand out to place on her shoulder, she scrambled back and away with wild eyes. Daryl froze, and surprised as the girl in the bed he was watching over as she slammed herself back against the wall behind her. Her breathing became even more labored. Slowly, Daryl withdrew his hand and fell back in his chair, withdrawing into himself in a similar manner.

Julie scanned his face critically, her body visibly relaxing in way that caused Daryl great concern. Julie wasn't one to scare easy and not moments ago, she had been absolutely terrified of him. "The hell was that about," he asked gruffly, trying not to sound as offended as he felt.

The blonde averted her gaze to the blanket covering her body and felt her body heat up with inexplicable embarrassment when she realized that the long-sleeved flannel shirt she was wearing belonged to the man currently sitting at her bedside. The flame of embarrassment was further flamed by the realization that she wasn't wearing pants. She scratched at the place between her shoulder blades and bit into her lip as she tried to calm her sudden nerves.

"Bad dream is all," she managed, trying to brush off his concern. She gave a half-hearted shrug. He grabbed ahold of her knee and jostled it to get her attention. "C'mon, what happened?"

Images of Merle staring at her with that dark expression on his face, backlit by lightning as a sea of walkers shambled toward them caused terror to shoot through her and she could feel her eyes well up with tears. She shook her head as the helplessness she had felt in her dream stole over her once more and gingerly swept the tears from her face.

"I was bein' chased by fucking massive herd of walkers and you saved my sorry ass." She choked back a sob and she remembered the jolt of resistance that shot through her leg as she stomped her boot downward. The lifeless hunger in Merle's eyes as he had latched on to his younger brother, whom he had loved and given his life for filled her with guilt. "You were making sure I was okay and then Merle came and he bit you."

Julie clenched her eyes shut as she watched the understanding alight on his face and his jaw clenched. She couldn't bear to look at him then. She felt nothing but absolute shame. "I killed him. I pulled him off you and killed him."

"Wasn't real," he whispered roughly, though he didn't look as though he believed his own words. Pain flashed in his eyes for a moment and he jerked his head to look away from her, finding it hard to keep his emotions in check. She covered her face with both hands and swiped at the never ending cascade of tears that persisted. "I know that; I know it. But I can't stop seeing it. It didn't end after that."

Though Daryl's face remained impassive, Julie managed to detect the they way his body tensed in anticipation. She lowered her eyes to the sleeve of the flannel shirt she was dressed in. "When I checked you, there wasn't a mark where he bit you. We were gonna keep running and then he was just there. Merle was just standing there and the two of you were telling me I had to pick and I didn't understand." Julie let out a shaky breath. "And then you turned and you bit me."

Daryl blinked at her several times, remaining silent. Neither spoke as they avoided looking at one another and the tension between them was palpable.

"Should get Hershel," Daryl managed to mumble out before clearing his throat and standing, eager to put a great deal of distance between himself and the emotionally fraught girl on the bed. Daryl felt his anxiety level rise when she nodded in agreement and her eyes filled with tears again. He wasn't sure why, but the situation and her words had made him inexplicably angry and he felt it was in both his and her best interest if he was no longer in the cell. Daryl picked at the peeling paint of the cinderblock doorway as he excused himself. "He wanted to know when you woke up, so..." He stepped away from the cell sped down the catwalk.

"Girl's awake," he nearly snarled at the old man as he passed without a passing glance, aware and very resentful of the questioning looks he was receiving from everyone who was still in the cellblock. Ignoring them, he moved further into the prison until he reached the solitary cellblock. He settled himself down on the floor outside one of the cells and puffed out a breath of air. Unfortunately for him, it seemed that no matter how much distance he put between himself and the girl who'd caused him so much trouble, it didn't solve what he was feeling. And what he was feeling was a hell of a lot scarier than a swarm of walkers.

* * *

Next Chapter:

_Daryl couldn't stop himself from snorting at that and he shook his head at her. "Girl, why didn't you just have Zach carry you?"_

_"Because," she offered up lamely, as if that would explain everything. Daryl shook his head imperceptibly and had to fight the urge to roll his eyes as he stood up and stretched his hand out toward her, "C'mon, then."_

_Daryl helped haul her to her feet and an overwhelming wave of dizziness caused Julie to sway sideways. She squeezed her eyes shut and let her head fall against his shoulder. "I think I'm gonna puke."_

_"You puke on me an' I'll bury you out front next to Merle," he joked drily, before turning his back to her. She let out a disbelieving laugh that ended on a groan and covered her mouth with her hand. "I am so going to beat her to death."_


	14. Chapter 14

**Sorry for the long pause in between updates. I started another story and spent some time catching up on this one. I've got a few chapters of this one written up and edited, but I'm planning on updating one at a time instead of in bulk so that it won't take quite as long. I've put my Harry Potter story (if any of you read it) on pause while I reread the series. I still plan on finishing it, but it won't be updated for awhile. This story and my "Sons of Anarchy" story will be finished before that one. I want to thank everyone for all the reviews and love this is getting. The reviews really help me to know I'm going in the right direction and that I'm staying true to the characters. I really hope you enjoy this chapter. Sorry it took so long to get it posted.**

**Please read, review, and enjoy.**

* * *

Things had been a lot more complicated for Daryl since Julie's head injury. His anger issues had been called into question several times by Rick and even Carol seemed a bit surprised by the level of hostility with which he had treated everyone. And he steered clear of Julie completely once she'd awoken the first time. Since she'd told him about her nightmare. He could barely admit it to himself, but what she had told him had shaken him. The idea of being bitten by Merle and turning only to take a chunk out of her, too, was something he couldn't wrap his head around. Nor could he really fathom her killing Merle to protect him. On some subconscious level, Daryl realized he was still thinking of her in relation to his brother. She was Merle's girl, whether either of them had wanted to admit it or not. Merle had been sweeter on her than any woman who'd ever piqued his interest before and it had taken a helluva lot for him to take notice of any woman past the size of her rack.

Daryl watched as Beth fed Judith her morning bottle and Zach passed her by with an appreciative smile which the young blonde reciprocated with a shy smile of her own. That was something Daryl would never quite understand, romantic attraction. Especially, when it came to his brother and Julie. It was just something he couldn't seemed to get his head around in any way that made it seem anything other than bizarre. It was clear he hadn't been the only one who had trouble grasping the main gist of that warped love affair, but it seemed he was the only one who had ever been willing to try and figure out just what it was that had drawn the pair together. What about Julie had appealed to crazy, mean, selfish sonofabitch like Merle Dixon?

Daryl slowly followed after Zach, who was already up the catwalk and disappearing into Julie's cell brandishing two bowls of vegetable stew that was a bit to watery to really be considered stew, and stalked into his own cell. He was running out of arrows again and it was time to make some new ones with some of the sticks he'd managed to gather while out to retrieve Zach's car.

The sound of Julie's laughter filtered in through the cellblock, echoing off the cinderblock and concrete walls. He could remember having seen Merle make her laugh like that a couple of times when the pair had been off on their own out in the courtyard. It hadn't been about the way she laughed then. But that she found Merle entertaining at all. That in itself was something. Nobody had ever put much stock in what he and Merle had to say or do. She hadn't ever pushed Merle to open up about anything or coddle her the way any other woman would have and she had been perfectly content with Merle the way he was. She'd been loyal to him, looked out from him, worried over him, protected him.

Daryl could have lied to himself and chalked it up to her immense sense of gratitude, but that would have been selling her and Merle short. Julie's raucous laughter rang out again and he felt his chest tighten at the sound. He wasn't quite sure how he felt, knowing she'd been willing to put his brother down to protect him, but whatever it was, it was powerful. Every muscle in his body came alive at the thought, radiated an energy that yearned to be released. Daryl hurled himself forward, up off his bed and out of his cell. He was unsurprised when he found himself standing in the doorway to her cell.

She and Zach were laying on opposite ends of her bed a pile of playing cards laid out between them. Their empty stew bowls were on the floor. She was still wearing his flannel shirt with the sleeves pushed up to her elbows and there was a large square of gauze on her forehead. Her hair was as much a rumpled mess as the bedsheets that covered her.

"You are such a little twat," she snorted with laughter as she shot forward to snatch the fistful of cards in Zach's hand, "You're cheating! I know you are!"

"Are you five," Zach managed through his own guffaws, "this is go-fish, not Texas Hold'em! Calm your ass down."

"No, you cheating cheater!"

"You are such a sore loser, you know that," Zach asked. "I am never playing cards with you again."

Daryl cleared his throat audibly and the pair turned toward him in unison, all traces of amusement leaving them as they took in his uncomfortable stance in the doorway. Zach gingerly shuffled the cards into a pile while Julie studied Daryl anxiously and reached up to finger the gauze bandage on her forehead self-consciously, letting her hair fall in her face. The corners of his mouth tipped downward in response and he debated momentarily on whether or not he should leave her be. He'd never garnered a reaction from her quite like that. Julie didn't really care much about her appearance. Sure, she was a stickler for keeping her hands clean when she ate, but that was as far as it went when it came to primping. Except for the painting her toenails weird colors. That he definitely didn't get.

He cut his eyes over to her and quickly looked away when he found she was watching him with a level of nervous energy that scared him. She looked frightened almost. Zach refused to even look at him as he squeezed past him and bolted for the catwalk.

"See you're feelin' better." Daryl wasn't sure whether or not he had meant to sound accusatory. Julie reared back slightly and blinked up at him in surprise. "What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

He grunted and shrugged at her as he slumped down in the chair opposite her and looked at her out of the corner of one eye. It always seemed to put her off guard when he refused to look at her or engage her in conversations that involved topics they were both highly uncomfortable with. "Just figured you woulda come tol' me."

"I'm not allowed out of bed," she snapped, her voice wavering the barest bit, "I gotta pee really fucking bad and Doctor Submarine told me I had to have someone come help me down there or pee in a bucket."

Daryl had to fight the urge not to smile at that. "You know that ain't his name."

"It should be Doctor Asshat," she moped, rubbing at the side of her head and scowling, "That dumb bitch who hit me, hit me so hard I have a fucking concussion still. First chance I get I'm gonna shoot her ass."

Daryl couldn't stop himself from snorting at that and he shook his head at her. "Girl, why didn't you just have Zach carry you?"

"Because," she offered up lamely, as if that would explain everything. Daryl shook his head imperceptibly and had to fight the urge to roll his eyes as he stood up and stretched his hand out toward her, "C'mon, then."

Daryl helped haul her to her feet and an overwhelming wave of dizziness caused Julie to sway sideways. She squeezed her eyes shut and let her head fall against his shoulder. "I think I'm gonna puke."

"You puke on me an' I'll bury you out front next to Merle," he joked drily, before turning his back to her. She let out a disbelieving laugh that ended on a groan and covered her mouth with her hand. "I am so going to beat her to death."

Despite Daryl's insistence in helping her into the bathroom, Julie managed to convince him to stand outside the bathroom on the condition that she would yell if she needed help and that he had to go get one of the women.

Once she was done, Julie sluggishly pulled her pants up and buckled her belt and dragged herself back out of the bathroom. She used the wall for support. Daryl helped her back to her cell slowly, careful not to jostle her. Sweat had beaded on her forehead and she seemed groggy. As she crawled back into bed and situated herself under the blankets, she sent him a curious look. It was obvious she was debating something.

"Either say what you're thinkin' or quit looking at me like that," Daryl growled, his voice rougher than intended. She glared at him in reproach before her expression smoothed out into one of nonchalance. "Zach and I have been talking and we were wondering what our exit strategy is."

Daryl felt himself frown. "Exit strategy?"

"Yeah, for if things go south here," she clarified. "What do we do? Where do we go?"

Daryl scowled at her and chewed at his thumb forcefully. "Don't need no exit strategy. Things ain't gonna go south here."

Julie remained undeterred as she snuggled further into her pillow and rolled onto her side. Her eyelids were beginning to droop. "Not having an exit strategy would be stupid, Daryl. We need a place to go, we need a rendezvous point for everyone to meet up at, and we need to assign jobs for people during times of crisis. If we get attacked or a massive herd comes through-like the one in my dream-it would be really messy."

Daryl gave her a knowing look. "You've got a plan."

She gave him a sleepy smile and Daryl frowned when he caught himself thinking about how cute she looked with the large white gauze plastered across half her head. "Well, I was just thinking, Woodbury would be a good place to meet up, you know? There's enough room, the wall is still solid, and it would give us enough time to get back on our feet. We could decide if we could take the prison back or if we should find another place to stay. I just thought maybe you could talk it over with the other council members, you know? Or at least get the ball rolling on an emergency plan. Clearing the fence can't be our only line of defense."

"You're not wrong," he conceded, "but Woodbury? Ain't nobody here fond of that place."

"No, but it would be safe for us for long enough for us to either rebuild, or gather enough supplies to move on and that's what matters." She waved a hand in his direction and rolled away from him. "Now, go away, I'm sleepy."

"Bossy, ungrateful-" he started to mutter as he stalked out of her cell.

"Don't forget gorgeous and radiant," she called after him drily and Daryl rolled his eyes heavenward. It seemed she'd been hit on the head harder than he thought. Still, that didn't stop his lips from quirking up into a reluctant smile.

* * *

Julie watched somberly as the small contingency of people prepped for another run. Zach's car was loaded down heavily and Julie watched as the newcomer, Bob, argued with Sasha about being let along on the run. Something about him set her on edge and she couldn't stop herself from glaring at him. The way he was smiling at Sasha, attempting to sweet talk her into letting him accompany them, was suspicious. Why did he need to go on the run with them so badly?

When Sasha's shoulder's sagged in defeat, Julie clenched her jaw and crossed her arms over her chest and gnawed at her ragged thumb nail as she glared resentfully at the pair that stood by the car. She narrowed her eyes further when she realized he already had his pack of supplies ready to go. This was premeditated and in no way something he decided to do out of the goodness of his heart.

Bob Stookey had kept to himself for several days-nearly two weeks to be exact- and had caused quite a bit of tension between Daryl and Glenn and the rest of the council over whether or not it had been such a great idea to bring such an anti-social, possibly mentally disturbed, stranger into the prison that was now full of many vulnerable people. But the heated debate was quickly squashed when the man in question finally emerged from his cell with a skip in his step and smile that Julie felt was far too eager.

Daryl and Zach insisted that she was just too suspicious for her own good when it came to strangers, but it was hard to see their points of view when that overly cautious nature of hers had proved her right far too many times for her to just suddenly decide to second guess it.

As Zach made to pass her, she latched onto his arm and gave him a look. "You shouldn't go. Not without me."

Zach frowned at her in disappointment. "Look, we've talked about this-"

"You've never been on a run without me," Julie argued over him, vehemently, "who else is gonna watch your back the way I have?"

"Maybe she's right," Beth agreed softly and the pair jumped in surprise. They hadn't heard her approach. She looked just as concerned as Julie. "Everybody else has someone to look out for them. You don't."

"Seriously," Zach asked, looking nonplussed, "you guys don't think I can't handle myself?"

"I have a bad feeling about this run," Julie admitted, cutting her eyes over to the others and then back to him. "They've got more experience on them than you do and Bob hasn't been here long enough to be reliable on a run yet."

"He's a combat medic."

"Yeah, but that don't mean shit," she scoffed quietly, "people can't really be trusted that well. He's not one of us yet. He hasn't put in the time for us to know whether or not he's worth much in a pinch."

"What if you get pinned down and he runs," Beth agreed. She crossed her arms when she noticed that Sasha was headed their way. Julie let out a few choice words under her breath and crossed her arms over her chest as well.

"The hell's the hold up?"

Beth looked down at the ground like a chastised toddler when Zach replied, "They don't want me going."

Julie continued to stare right back at Sasha coolly, unrepentant. "Especially if he's going to be going." She jerked her head in Bob's direction and watched as his expression morphed into one of extreme indignation. "I am a combat medic!"

"Yes, and I'm sure that worked out real well for your last group since they're all still here, right," she snapped back easily. Beth let out a hiss of shock and Bob's posture went rigid as he all but glowered at her. When the others continued to gape at her she rolled her eyes. "What? I'm not allowed to point out the obvious?"

"Walker bites aren't treatable," Bob responded and his voice was hollow.

"Then there's really no point in you going, is there," she asked meanly, "since that's the threat you're all planning to avoid. Beside, your group's big enough that any people looking to do you harm are gonna avoid y'all."

"Look, I'm new and you don't trust me, I get it-" he started to try to defend again and Julie shook her head wildly like a stubborn child. "No, that ain't gonna work on me. You can try to placate me all you want, I'm not going to budge on this. What is it you need on this run so bad that you need to go? Write it down and have someone else take care of it."

"Julie, it's not that big of a deal," Sasha sighed, looking thoroughly bored with the argument that was unfolding. Julie simply rounded her narrowed glower on the shorter girl and bristled further with indignation.

"It _is_ a big deal! Runs have to be approved by the council as do the people who go on runs." Julie jabbed a finger in Bob's direction and he was forced a step back to avoid being poked in the chest. Daryl and Glenn were now both keenly aware of how volatile the argument was becoming and Glenn darted forward to intervene while Daryl was content to hang back and watch everything unfold from a safe distance. By his estimation, things weren't going to become violent anytime soon and it was easier to let the volatile blonde say her piece and then tell her where to stick it than just try to argue back at her. And, he wasn't quite sure whether he agreed with her or not by that point.

"He hasn't done enough to earn that level of trust," Julie said finally, "let him work the fence, take a few night shifts in the guard tower and then let him come on a run. Just letting people we don't know on runs is not the way to do it."

"I'll show you who I am by letting me on this run," Bob countered. Julie shook her head one last time and took a step back. "Don't you get it? That's what I'm afraid of."

She backed up further and threw her hands up, fed up with the situation and everyone in it. "Whatever, do what you want."

She shot her friend one last, pleading look. "Don't get yourself killed."

Daryl clapped a hand down on Zach's shoulder and looked over at her. "I'll keep an eye on him."

Julie didn't bother responding. She was too incensed by the whole situation to give a damn about any of them at that point. Instead, she stalked out the gate and flopped down in the grass to watch Hershel school Rick on the art of farming.

Hershel Greene had a calming effect on her that she hadn't expected. She'd thought she would find his presence stifling and had assumed she would be on the receiving end of several judgmental looks, but Hershel had tended to take everything everyone threw at him in stride and hardly seemed to bat an eye when something came up that would usually make someone cringe. Not once had he brought up catching her sleeping in the same bed as Daryl and she doubted he would ever deign to comment on it unless she broached the subject first.

Hershel was busy showing Rick how to grow new tomato plants and Julie sprawled out on her side. Today was supposed to be her day off so that she would be well rested for her twilight shift on guard duty. It was nice out despite the snapping and snarling outside their little prison community and Julie stretched her limbs and hummed contentedly to herself as she practically rolled around on the green grass, tipping her head back to keep on eye on the two men as they dug their callused hands in the soil.

Rick peered up at her over the top of one of the taller plants and cocked his head to the side, giving her a rueful smile. "What on earth are you doing?"

"Being lazy." She yawned and rubbed at her eyes. The warmth from the sun was making her sleepy. "I'm on guard tower rotation tonight, so it's my day off."

"You're rolling around in the grass like a dog," he chuckled and she smiled and watched as Hershel moved to the opposite end of the plot. Finally, she turned her face away and looked off to where Maggie was helping Carl finish nailing in several boards into the new pig pen they were building. Julie had no idea where they had found the pigs, but she was much looking forward to the day she could finally sink her teeth into a porkchop once more, though she was sure she would be forced to fight Daryl for it.

Julie turned back to look at Rick. "Can we get some goats?"

"Where do you expect to find some?"

She watched as a butterfly wafted from tomato plant to tomato plant before sailing of in the direction of the horse's small stall. It landed on the horses velvety nose. The horse reared back in surprise, backing right into the fencing. Further startled by something touching its hind quarters, the horse kicked out and neighed angrily. The piglets, who'd yet to be moved into their new home used the opportunity to escape from their temporary pen and darted out into the grass, a tiny herd of pink blurs squealing and racing across the open yard.

Rick, Carl, and Maggie took off after them, all three yelling in bewilderment and Julie couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Hershel, the poor man, looked at a loss as he watched one of the wayward piglets stampede through their newly tended tomato patch. Julie rolled back and forth, clutching at her stomach.

"The pigs got out," Mika yelled from over by the cooking pit and the small contingency of children came racing through the open gate toward the terrified piglets with varying shouts of joy and their hands thrown up in the air as they too stampeded out into the yard.

Julie pulled herself to her feet, finally when Rick paused not far from her to hunch over his knees and catch his breath. She hunched over next to him, guffawing loudly as she watched Carl, beet-faced with effort and anger as he repeatedly screamed at the other children to stop chasing the pigs. Maggie had stopped and was standing next to the horse's stall both hands brought up to the crown of her head and her eyes were wider than Julie had ever seen them.

"What the hell is going on," Carol cried from the gates, as she took in the trampled tomato plants, busted pen fence, and Rick and Julie both gasping for air but for very different reasons. Rick managed to give her a half-hearted look of reproach that she easily ignored and she bent to scoop up the piglet who had been rooting through the tomatoes. She picked up the squirming animals and thrust him into the former Sheriff's arms. Rick stared down at the piglet with in consternation. "How in the hell did this happen?"

"Butterfly landed on the horses nose. He knocked the fencing out, which scared the pigs."

"A butterfly caused all that," Carol asked as she neared them. She shook her head as she watched Carl tackled a piglet that still managed to wiggle out of the vice-like grip he had on it. Maggie was struggling with the two piglets she had managed to wrangle and she pursed her lips as she watched the one Carl had tried to coral dart off toward the other side of the yard at lightning speed. Julie covered her mouth to keep from laughing again and Carol shook her head. "It looks like a hurricane came through here. Half your tomato plants are ruined."

"They'll be fine," Hershel reassured them, "We've just had a minor setback is all."

At this point, Rick handed his piglet over to Carl and went to inspect the damage to the fence and Julie followed, deciding that she should help instead of just stand by and laugh. Hershel left the yard to go retrieve a hammer while she and Rick heaved the boards back in place. It didn't take long to patch up the fence and they eventually managed to get all the pigs back into the stall. Rick moved to help Maggie and Carl finish the pig pen while Hershel finished tending to the tomatoes. Julie had retreated back to the prison and settled down on her bed to stare up to the dull grey ceiling.

Now that the chaos of the escaped pigs had been effectively contained, she felt that she could go back to moping about Zach. With the sheet covering her doorway all the way, there was barely any light in her cell and the near pitch black darkness was making her sleepy. Julie rolled onto her stomach and covered her head with her blanket in order to keep the echoes of the cellblock from reaching her and wondered where she would be if the end of the world hadn't happened.

_Probably still in Atlanta, pretending things weren't so shitty there either_, she thought bitterly to herself as she remembered where she had ended up and she clutched one corner of her pillow tighter and clenched her eyes shut as she tried to forget the motel she had left behind and the people she had abandoned when she'd made her way to Atlanta and sworn to forget everything about her old life.

The end of the world had most effectively thrown a wrench in that plan. Now, she worried about the people she had once known. Had they lived? Died? Or were they dying right then? Shouldn't be comforting to know that they were dead and no longer suffering? That they were no longer driven to survive by some primal instinct buried deep within all humans? She could still see their blurred faces when she thought of them, pangs of regret reverberating through her body as she recalled the last time she had seen them. Even though she knew she shouldn't feel guilty, there was a small, miniscule part of her that ached when she remembered the people who had lived and breathed in the world that had existed before it had all come crashing down. Survivor's guilt was a massive bitch.

Julie opened her eyes and stared out into the darkness as she remembered the dingy motel had resided in for months. The rooms were nothing more than a group of small cabins set up on a small plot of land on an overly crowded street in a backwoods town that was more of a truck stop than anything else. The people in the town either worked minimum wage jobs around the town or commuted to bigger cities to work marginally better jobs for equally minimal pay. Like the rest of the town, the motel was rundown and cost next to nothing. The televisions, which were obviously relics of a time long past, managed to receive three channels. The carpet was either a gross, brown shag or a deep brick red affair that had merely been slapped onto the concrete floor. The beds were as loud and tended to creak when one sat or lay on them and the curtains that hung in the windows were always stained by cigarette smoke. Some of the air conditioning units leaked onto the carpet, causing an unpleasant mildew stain.

Julie had lived in one of the cabins for nearly a year and it was close to home as could be expected. Really, there had been no difference between living in that motel and living in the prison now. It was surviving, which was something she had always done. She could remember all the cheeseburgers and fries she had brought home from the diner that she and Jason ate in silence at the small table while they watched the news (they certainly weren't going to watch porn and Julie wasn't a bit interested in football). They never spoke towards the end. They just sat in dead silence as they ate their meals and Julie wondered if things would have changed if she had stayed.

That horrible, rainy day had completely changed everything. There had been no dinner; that had been dumped into a puddle in the gravel drive. Instead, she sat at a different table in a different cabin nursing a bottle of tequila even though she really had no reason to. She had been numb and empty until she realized she should be angry. And then she was and the anger had snowballed and she had retaliated in the only way she knew how. That had scared her, how vindictive she had been.

Sitting at that table watching the rain while she chain-smoked reds and downed shot after shot was still a vivid memory that burned almost as bright as any memory she'd had since Woodbury. It pounded through her body like the beating of a war drum, signaling her doom. Was that the day that led her here?

* * *

The sky was grey and dismal and the rain fell slowly, going from a barely there drizzle to great fat drops sporadically throughout the day. She had been miserable at work that day, but once she'd entered the cabin, it had seemed comforting. She watched the rain dip from the awning outside idly and took a drag from her cigarette. The emptiness she felt wasn't comforting, but it wasn't painful either. After all, that's what emptiness was, right? Feeling nothing. She downed another shot of tequila and fiddled with the pack of matches sitting by the glass ashtray that was nearly brimming over with cigarette butts. "Can't believe that little shit did this," she finally muttered, tossing the matchbook down. She felt her companion shrug across from her though he made no move to reach for the bottle that sat between him even though his shot glass had been empty for some time.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised," she ventured, cutting her eyes to his side of the table and furrowing her brow when she realized there was something wrong with what she saw, though she couldn't quite place her finger on it. She averted her gaze again, frowning. Something was wrong with this memory. She continued anyway, "Rachel's always done stupid shit. Just never thought she'd do something this stupid."

"You don't sound too upset. You guys were together an awfully long time." That voice sounded different. Less confident, more gravelly and rough on her ears in a way that was unsettlingly pleasant. She looked back up to him and blinked warily, her expression mirroring his. His eyes were different, bluer than they should be, but still just as piercing and intense. Still, something was off.

She looked out towards the rain. "I think we were done. Just kinda still together because it was how we've always been," she admitted and felt a pinch of anger at herself for having stayed for a relationship that had died long ago. "You and Rachel..." Her words died off when she realized he was still watching her. He'd done it before on the few occasions they'd been in each other's presence and it had always made her feel off-kilter. But now, there was something much more intense about it, heated. Her skin tingled with awareness. He pushed the bottle from between them and studied her with a level of intensity that caused her body to burn and then he stood up and she watched him just as avidly as he had been watching her as she sought out every inconsistency with the memories she had of him.

She stood as well, but could move no further. She knew where this was going, knew what this meant and the level of anticipation she felt as it shot through her body was almost unbearable. She'd never felt this before. She licked her lips, let her eyes dart from his to his balled up fists and then back to those eyes that seemed much bluer than she could ever recall. The emptiness she'd only minutes earlier been lamenting was now replaced with an overwhelming sense of need. The sudden clarity that provided caused her to waver on her feet and he took the opportunity to grab her by the arms and pull her against him roughly. Julie's mouth opened in surprise and he brought his mouth down upon hers.

The bed creaked under their weight as he brought her down on the mattress. The two of them were a tangle of limbs that had no end and no beginning. It was strange how connected she felt to him, how much a part of her she realized he was. And laying in bed next to him, she realized how keenly it would hurt to lose him. She rolled to face him, watched as his chest rose and fell with each breath and felt herself whisper into the stillness, "Daryl."

Julie bolted upright in her bed and glanced around her cell wildly. Gone was the brick red shag carpet, the leaky air conditioning unit that hummed dully in the background, and the stale scent of cigarette smoke that lingered in the air. This was not the cabin. She let herself fall back on the bed and rubbed at her eyes vigorously, willing herself to forget the alterations her mind had made to a memory that she had been trying to forget. She had nearly been successful, too.

"Hey." Julie kept her hand over her eyes, unwilling to face the person speaking to her. "What?"

"We just got back," he replied quietly, picking up on her desire to be alone, "Zach's fine, he's with Beth, but uh, he and Bob had a close call. That chick that hit you in the face? Dana? She didn't make it."

"And you?" Julie nearly cursed out loud. She heard his booted feet shuffle on the concrete at the entrance to her cell. "I'm no worse for wear. I'd say I'm broken up about losin' another person, but seein' as how it was that chick who busted your forehead...Rick had to break it to Dr. S. She was a nurse at his clinic before all this."

"Remind me to send flowers," she bit out a bit more harshly than intended. There was an awkward silence and then she managed to find her voice again. "I'm glad everyone else is okay. Even Bob, I guess."

Daryl rapped his knuckles against the metal bars and the sound reverberated in the small space. It was as jarring as the burning sensation in her chest that had quickly crept up her neck and to her face. Her heart was beating faster than the wings of a hummingbird. Her lips still tingled from where he'd kissed her; even if it was a dream, the intensity of it had been real enough for her and the implications were nothing short of unsettling.

"We're fixing to eat, if you want to come down."

"I'll pass," she answered too quickly for either of their liking. She rolled to face the wall and curled her arm under head. "I'm not hungry," she murmured to herself.

The ensuing silence was punctuated by his boots on the concrete as he walked away from her and she resisted the urge to cover ear with her hands when her heartbeat grew in volume with each step he took. How would she ever be able to come to terms with this?

_You leave_, the thought whispered through her mind innocently enough, but that didn't stop her from feeling a wash of guilt. _Just like the last time, _she though bitterly_. Just leave like I did last time. Hope they aren't dead like_-She couldn't bring herself to finish that thought. The voice nudged her again. _But you weren't in love with him the way you are Daryl Dixon._

"I'm not capable of love," she whispered into the darkness with a bitterness hadn't even known was possible. Somehow, the truth in her words rang hollow.

* * *

_Next Chapter:_

_"Then why don't you," Julie snapped, leaning away from her. The older woman gave her a lopsided grin. "touchy subject? Fine, let's talk about your boyfriend."_

_"I don't have a boyfriend," she snapped irritably. The other woman's grin widened. "So he's single?"_

_Julie gave her an incredulous look. "Are you actually interested or just trying to piss me off?"_

_"Ok, so maybe I'm trying to get a rise out of you," she admitted, "it's boring around here. God, I miss tv. Don't you?"_

_"I was more of a book person. Less talking."_

_"You really are a bitch. I thought it was just talk, but you are."_


	15. Chapter 15

**There have been a lot of health issues within my family and computer issues and just. A lot. Ugh.**

**Anyway, I appreciate the reviews and love I've gotten. To those of you who PM'd, thanks a ton. I have a lot of this worked up and you appreciate me now...but you won't. This story is going places and it won't be happy. But it's "The Walking Dead", so that's par for the course.**

**Thank you for continued reading. Read and review and tell me what you think. I appreciate any and all feedback. Thanks again.**

* * *

There was a memorial service for Dana held after the evening meal. Julie attended, staying further away from the congregation which had crowded around the small cemetery. Not many had come, save those who had loved ones buried in one of the plots. Dr. S said a few words, while their other companion, Gretchen, stood nearby looking as stoic as ever. Her icy blue eyes stared off into the distance as she scowled at the undead that insisted on moaning as they beat against the chain link fence.

Julie let her eyes roam over the faces in attendance. Michonne, Glenn, Maggie, Rick, Carl, Judith, Hershel, Beth, Zach, Sasha, Bob, and Daryl were all there. Carl and Rick were staring at Lori's grave, looking worn and lost in memories of a life long gone. Julie glanced toward Merle's grave and frowned to herself, hugging her arms around her middle as she shifted on her feet and curled her toes. That familiar itch between her shoulder blades, the one that always told her to run, was back. She looked back toward the group and entertained briefly how they would fair without her before looking out toward the setting sun. They would be fine without her, but they wanted her there and part of her wanted to be there.

Feeling eyes on her, she turned to find Daryl standing a few feet away squinting at her curiously. She unconsciously took a step back and turned her body away slightly, returning her attention to the sunset as she chewed the nail of her right index finger. Once the small group dispersed, Julie made her way to the guard tower to take watch, settling on the edge of the walk and letting her legs dangle over the side. Hearing another set of feet on the steps, she turned to see who it was coming up the walk. She tensed when the brunette appeared, piercing her with cold blue eyes. The brunette settled beside her, resting her rifle next to her on the concrete floor and she draped her arms over the lower rung of the guard rail.

"I'm not mad at you if that's what you're wondering," the woman said, though she kept her gaze forward, "I'm not even upset that she's gone. I just...don't really care."

Julie nodded more to herself than to anyone else. Her companion continued on. "I didn't even want to stay here. I wanted to leave after we brought you back."

"Why didn't you?"

She felt rather than saw the other woman shrug. "Where am I going to go? What place would be safer than a prison? I just don't want to be here because most of the people here are weak and useless. They outnumber the people here that are worth a damn. They'll drag them down."

Julie couldn't argue with that. "They can't just turn people away."

She scoffed. "Why not? Would Jesus be mad at them?" She scoffed again. "It's all about survival now."

It was Julie's turn to scoff. "It's always been about survival. Things are just more clear-cut now. Only thing that's changed now is that the dead can walk."

"Why are you still here," she asked finally, sounding genuinely curious, "You seem like the type who woulda cut out of here by now."

"You're not wrong," she replied, weighing her words carefully, "made a promise to myself and someone else that I'd stick around and look after someone important."

"Why?"

She blew out a huff of air and shook her head. "I don't even know anymore. This place complicates things. It should be easy now." She pointed out toward the crowd of undead near the front gate. "They should be the only thing I have to worry about, but-"

"Which is why you should leave." She turned to look at the brunette. She was watching the undead as that stumbled toward the prison. "It's why I should leave. Hell I'm thinking of leaving."

"Then why don't you," Julie snapped, leaning away from her. The older woman gave her a lopsided grin. "touchy subject? Fine, let's talk about your boyfriend."

"I don't have a boyfriend," she snapped irritably. The other woman's grin widened. "So he's single?"

Julie gave her an incredulous look. "Are you actually interested or just trying to piss me off?"

"Ok, so maybe I'm trying to get a rise out of you," she admitted, "it's boring around here. God, I miss tv. Don't you?"

"I was more of a book person. Less talking."

"You really are a bitch. I thought it was just talk, but you are."

Julie cut her eyes over. "You just so much as said you ain't here to make friends, so why are you getting so bent out of shape that I don't want to make small talk? You don't give a shit about me and I don't give a shit about you. Let's keep it that way."

A heavy silence fell between them before it was broken once more. "If you ever decide to leave, give me a heads up."

"Why?"

"Because if you leave, your boyfriend will follow and that means it's time to bail on this death trap."

"I don't have a boyfriend."

"He seems awful keen on you."

"He just feels guilty about some shit that happened. That's all."

"Whatever you say. D'you want first shift?"

Julie shrugged. "I can go first. I slept most of the day."

The moon was high above when Julie woke Gretchen for her shift, but didn't herself go to sleep. She lay on the mattress for awhile and Julie leant up against one of the support beams and scanned the perimeter of the fence. There were two undead wandering around in the tall grass aimlessly. With everyone safe and sound in their beds, silence filled the air and there was nothing to engage their attention. One of them staggered off into the woods and the other soon followed afterward.

"Sometimes I think it would be easier to be one of them," she said softly into the cool night air, "just nothing. No worries, thoughts, feelings, purpose."

"You wouldn't exist anymore. You'd just be a shell. Just because your body could move doesn't mean you wouldn't be dead. Being dead is always going to be easier than living. That's why this sucks so much more than before. We're all just surviving for no fucking reason." There was a hint of bitterness in the brunette's voice and Julie turned to look at her. Gretchen's blue eyes were cold as stared upwards and unseeing. "If you and I were to cut out of here, nothing would be different. Except there would be less people."

"People complicate shit, make you weak," Julie agreed, watching as the shadows bled across the yard. She loved the world at night. Everything made sense when there was darkness and silence and the world was blanketed in nothingness. Gretchen sat up finally and grabbed ahold of her rifle. "Quiet night I take it?"

"Yep, dead silent in the dead of night, keeping a watchful eye on the dead risen from the grave." Julie pulled a cigarette out of the half empty pack Daryl had gifted her on the group's return from scavenging. She assumed it was his way of apologizing. She lit it and took a drag as Gretchen came to sit beside her, letting her legs dangle over the side.

"Do you ever miss your old life?"

"You mean the one where I had a dead end job, in my cramped apartment where I spent my free time watching reruns of 'Friends'?" Her companions reply surprised her. The woman gave a sardonic smile. "This life works for me. I feel like I have meaning. Everything I do now has a purpose. Before, it was just...stipulations for how you keep on living. You had to have money to buy a place to live and to get the money you needed a job, but to get that job, you needed to learn all these things that didn't really matter. Who the fuck needs to know how to use and Excel spreadsheet now, huh bitches? Suck it, Larry from accounting."

"You just said it sucks living this life."

Gretchen gave a soft snicker. "It does. But there's only one thing you need to really know to survive. Don't get bitten. That's it. Pretty easy to remember and accomplish on the daily if you ask me."

Julie hummed in agreement and fell back on the makeshift mattress. When she opened her eyes again, it was well after sunrise and Tyreese was sitting guard. He gave her a kind smile, which she returned as she rubbed at her face. She hadn't missed breakfast and she settled on a bench beside Patrick, whose neck flushed red from embarrassment as he smiled at her dopily. Carl rolled his eyes and shook his head and continued to eat his bowl of baked beans. Julie had opted for a granolas bar and a sliced up tomato. She hated tomatoes but beggars couldn't be choosers in the middle of the apocalypse.

"So, Miss Julie, what are your plans for today," Patrick asked enthusiastically and she could practically see Carl mentally kick him from across the table. But she liked Patrick. He was one of the few optimists left in the world and that was a very rare thing to be around. She gave a half shrug and smiled back. "Not sure. I had night shift so I get another free day. Probably read or sleep."

"Be lazy, you mean," Carol teased as she set a bottle of water in front of the blonde and laid her hand on her head in a motherly fashion. Carol, Zach, and Daryl were what kept her in the prison and she could freely admit that to herself. Carol was the mother she still so desperately needed, Zach was the brother she'd always wanted. She didn't even want to think about what Daryl had started to become to her.

As if summoned by her unbidden thoughts, the man himself appeared next to her, holding a bowl of grits and a bag of leftover jerky. Julie stiffened as he settled down next to her, all too aware of the heat his body was emitting beside her. She hadn't had such a visceral reaction to someone in a very long time. She swallowed thickly and kept her eyes trained on the wall of the cellblock in front of her, concentrating all of her efforts on ignoring him.

"That all you're gonna eat," he asked gruffly and she felt her entire body twitch in response. He stopped mid-chew, signally that he'd caught the subtle movement and squinted at her, trying to figure out what it was that suddenly had her so out of sorts. Julie cleared her throat in order to buy some time. She didn't trust her voice just then. "M'not hungry."

"Still gotta eat," he said, gravelly voice sending a thrill of vibration through her body at the tone. She shifted in her seat, knocking into Patrick, whose face bloomed crimson in response. Feeling caged in, Julie hastily rose from her seat, her knee burning where it had grazed Daryl's thigh and she avoided his gaze, which had become considerably darker. She didn't even bother to try and make up a lie to cover her sudden departure; he could try to figure out her motivation all he wanted. She tossed her empty granola wrapper in the trash, handed her plate over to the assigned breakfast crew cleanup, and bee lined it right for her cell. The second she was inside, she ripped the sheet close and collapsed against the cinderblock wall and fought to catch her breath, bending to rest her hands on her knees as she breathed in and out deeply.

It didn't escape her knowledge that she was practically hyperventilating, something she hadn't done in months. And Daryl was usually the one who helped her through them. Who would help her through them now seeing as he was the cause? "Oh, shit, oh shit. Shit, shit, shit," she hissed out in panicked desperation.

"Hey, Jul-" Zach cut himself off mid-sentence when he saw her pale, panicked face and gingerly stepped into the cell. "Jesus, breathe, Jules, breathe!"

He laid a hand on her back and started rubbing it in slow circular motions. "C'mon, you can do this. Just breathe."

She shook her head frantically, as her shallow breathing quickened and her face felt wet. When had she started crying. "I can't. I can't do it. I can't, I-"

"Lemme go get Daryl." He started to pull away and she latched onto him and all but screamed. "No! I don't want him in here." Mindful of just how well sound carried in their home, she lowered her voice to a soft hiss. "he can't know. I can't-I need to stay away from him for awhile."

"What about your nightmares," Zach asked in his own hushed voice, deciding not to pry further than deemed necessary and a very large part of her was relieved by just how well he understood her. "I'll deal," she gasped in between breaths as she gripped his shirt in her fists while he continued to rub her back. He gave her a searching look, asking the question without needing words. Julie reached up one hand to wipe at her face. "I'll handle it. I just need some time to get over it."

"If you think that's what's best," he replied skeptically, looking as though he disagreed. Julie merely nodded and let out a huff as he cupped her face and looked her over. "You good now?"

She stepped away from him and fell back on her bed, falling to the side to curl up in a ball. "Yeah, just need some space from everyone. Need to figure things out."

Zach tapped at the metal bars of the cell and gave her a look that spoke volumes. "Don't run without me."

Julie lifted her head from her pillow and looked him over, smiling genuinely for the first time all day. "I would never."

Zach gave her a small smile of his own and backed out of the cell. Julie let her head fall back on her pillow, willing herself to sleep. But she found no solace there. All she found was that same, cursed and warped dream version of her old life and Daryl standing at the edge of that field while he held his hand out to her, a wordless plea for her to come with him, to leave the solitude and safety of the field and join him and the walkers. And she wanted so badly to join him, to reach out and take hold of his warm hand and feel that deliciously terrifying fire burn through her body and set her nerve-endings on edge. That feeling made her body sing with happiness and her mind reel with terror.

When she woke up, it was dark in the cell and the entire block. Had she really been that tired? She swung her legs over the side of the bed and simply sat there as she mulled over everything. Before the world had come to an end, she never dreamt. She was consumed by comforting, warm, inviting darkness. And even after, when it first began, the only change was the dull hum of the dying world around her as it struggled to turn while she slept. And after she was attacked and left for dead, the darkness turned cold, hard, unforgiving, and cruel as it slowly choke the sanity from her mind with hands that bruised and broke her body over and over again. And that became the new norm for her until Daryl

Daryl gave her back the darkness that lulled her into warm, secure oblivion. That darkness should have scared her because before it had been some intangible dreamworld that only existed in her mind. But when she found him-when they found each other-she realized it came from him. He was that darkness.

Julie pulled her boots and socks off and crept one cell over. His back was to her and he was sleeping. Daryl never had trouble sleeping and even if he did, she was never the wiser because if he wasn't angry and pissed off, he was eerily calm and reserved. He was the anchor that held everyone steady. She shucked her jeans and bra and slid in behind him, the bed sighing along with the atmosphere around her.

She had no problem being close to him like this, now, when words didn't exist and simply being was a language all its own. The ability to mod her body to his in the cover of night was second nature. She felt his body sag as it relaxed further when placed her palm flat against his back as she always did it was enough until it wasn't and she delicately snaked her arm around his waist for the first time, and laid her hand right over his heart. She could feel and hear it with utter clarity.

He was living and he was breathing and he was here. He was flesh and blood and she was touching him. It was absurd and wonderful and incomprehensible. Just as the world had ended, hers had finally begun.

* * *

He jolted into consciousness the second she alighted on the mattress behind him, just as he always did. Daryl was always painfully aware of Julie when they slept together, in such close proximity. It wasn't because he was uncomfortable with the complete invasion of his space, though he'd assumed that was what it was. He'd assumed that his body anticipated her arrival so keenly because he dreaded having his solitude interrupted, but the after the first couple times she hadn't come to him, he'd started to suspect that he actually craved her presence and the comfort it brought him.

It had always bothered him when people drifted too close to him in life, but with Julie, it cloaked him in relief. Someone didn't merely tolerate him because he was useful or a necessary evil. Someone wanted him close, wanted him simply because he was himself. It was an extraordinary thing to try to come to terms with at first. He'd thought he was a replacement for Merle eventually, the high of being needed on a physical level having worn off. But even after her nightmares had subsided, she kept coming back. He'd quickly explained it away as her having grown accustomed to him. It was a bitter pill he swallowed, but he didn't push her away; she was doing that well enough alone in the harsh light of day.

She'd grown distant and cold toward him. She avoided him and spent her time performing busy work in order to steer clear of him. Daryl knew she was aware of how he'd cottoned on to her actions, but neither had said anything about it. That type of confrontation wasn't their thing. They fought with sharp objects and sharper words, not reason and honesty. They were both fighting to hid something personal from one another and he couldn't vilify her for that. He wasn't a hypocrite.

So, under cover of darkness, Daryl Dixon marinated in his own emotional misery as he tried to puzzle out the warped relationship between he and Julie. They knew nothing of each other's past and they kept it that way. He didn't want the burden of her pain just as she didn't want the burden of his. To care without needing to take care of was an odd aspect he hadn't been aware of until late. He's been picking apart their pull toward one another over and over until he was left with nothing but a strong sense of helplessness. It refused to explain itself, refused to quell the outburst of irrational need and yearning for physical contact and reassurance that things were what they were.

It was a miracle his breathing didn't hitch when she snaked an arm around him to place her hand over his heart while she nuzzled her face into his back. This was something new that should appall him. He should be ripping her arm from around him and telling her to back off, that it was already to much that she insisted on crowding him in bed every night and now she was demanding they get even more physical. He should be snapping at her to respect his damn boundaries. But now, Daryl wasn't so sure what boundaries they had between them. Did he want more or less? He didn't know. Everything was just muddled now.

There were only a few things he knew for certain. It scared him when she bled, when she hurt, when she didn't come to him at night. It scared him that she still dreamt of his brother. It scared him that she dreamt of protecting him now. It scared him that he liked how much she looked after him even though he didn't need it. Julie scared him because she made things in his life complicated in a way they never had been before and it scared him most of all that he was beginning to realize he wanted those complications.

It took Daryl hours to fall asleep that night and it was a fitful sleep when he finally did. He stirred when Julie let out a disgruntled sigh and slowly pulled herself from the bed. Instead of standing and leaving as she always did when she left her boots in her room, Julie sat on the edge, burying her face in her hands and groaned quietly to herself.

"The fuck am I doing," she mumbled to herself, sighing and rolling her neck. It cracked and she rolled her shoulders next. "Need to get my shit together."

Julie finally rose from the bed and Daryl could hear the slide of fabric over skin as she hastily dressed herself and then left. It took him awhile befoire he too, took the time to ready himself for the day, but his mood was yet improved and when he came out of his cell and left the block completely, he noticed Julie, Carol, and Rick were both sitting at one of the tables, a good ways away from everyone else as they ate their food. Judging by their serious expressions, they were talking about something important. Shock flared up inside him when he caught Rick gesture for Gretchen to join them. The brunette seemed equally caught off guard and eyed the trio warily as she settled down beside Julie.

Daryl decided without realizing he had that whatever it was they were discussing, was to involve him as well. He stalked over, grabbing a bowl of food as he went and sat down on Julie's right, making sure to crowd her in a bit more than he normally would. She eyed him sharply for less than a second and then went back to her food while Rick gave him his customary nod of acknowledgment. "Glad you're here. It'll save me from having to hunt you down later and repeat all this.

Interest piqued, he set his gaze on the former Sheriff's Deputy. "What's goin' on?"

"Julie brought up an interesting point about us not having a meeting point for if things go south here."

"Finally told you about her idea for Woodbury?"

Julie went stiff beside him and Rick's eyes lit with something akin to amusement. It looked like he was trying not to smile. "She did and I think it's something worth looking into."

Deciding to ignore Rick's peculiar expression Daryl replied, if a little sharply. "So look into it."

"Looking into it won't be just a day excursion to Woodbury and we're worried that unless it's a solid, air-tight argument for making it a rendezvous point, the other members of the council won't go with it." Carol said lowly, cutting her eyes toward where Glenn, Maggie and the other two members of the Greene family were sitting. "We don't want to give them any reason to hold sway over a vote. Sasha will remain impartial. But with what was done to Maggie and Glenn. We know Hershel and Gleen will say no. And that's to big a chance for this to get voted down."

"I know you ain't askin' me to talk to them." Both Carol and Rick grinned at the absurdity of that idea and shook their heads in unison.

"No, I want to send the four of you to Woodbury, see what all it's lacking that we would need in case of an evacuation," Rick explained, then two of you would stay there, get things in order while the other two would do a little bit of a scavenging mission and get a lay of the surrounding land, make sure no other groups have moved in too close."

"That's the only part of this I have a problem with," Julie admitted, "Woodbury may have been evil, but it was a necessary evil. They weren't soft like we are here and it kept this area safe." When Rick made to respond, she cut him off. "No, this group is soft. I'm not saying that's entirely wrong, but it's enough to invite the wrong people to come sniffing around. And I guarantee they will if they haven't been already."

"What kind of people," Gretchen asked, looking curious. Julie shot her a warning look. "Kind of people that make the Roamers look pleasant. Wolves in sheep's clothing. They come on friendly sometimes and then they try to slit your throat in the night. Had it happen once or twice. Sometimes they travel in pairs. Other times, they travel in groups. They'll run right through a camp."

"How do you know so much about them?"

"I had a run in with a group a while back."

Gretchen raised an eyebrow, her cool eyes searching. "What happened?"

The tension in the air was thick and Rick actually dropped his eyes to stare into his empty breakfast bowl while Carol turned to stare out into the yard. Julie met the woman's challenging gaze head on. "They didn't make it."

"Anyway, that's why I want Carol and Gretchen to be the ones to stay behind in Woodbury," Rick explained, trying to dissolve the tension. "The two of you can hold your own, the place is easily defensible. Besides, Carol, you pretty much run things inside the prison itself. You're the most organized, you'll be able to better suss out what the place is lacking and I trust you to start getting it into order now. Daryl, nobody knows the woods better than you. You can handle being out there in hostile territory best. Julie knows what you could be up against and there's no one else I trust more to watch your back."

The logic was sound and all four of them nodded in agreement. Seeing no one was going to argue against him, Rick continued on. "I'll send you with a pair of Walkies so you can keep in contact."

"How we gon' explain this to the others," Daryl asked and Rick nodded yet again. "Hershel's been urging me to take on more responsibility here, start making more of the decisions. I think he'll be willing to look the other way if I organize a run on my own without anyone else's help. And while you're gone, I'll start stepping up here a bit more to keep cover up. This needs to be done, we need to be prepared for the worst."

The hunter agreed and let his expression say so as he finished off his food. Noticing the blonde beside him was also done, he grabbed her bowl and stacked it with his own before standing. "When's this thing gonna happen?"

"Day after tomorrow."

"I'll be ready." He turned and sauntered off. He needed space now.

* * *

It had been weeks since she had gone to visit him in such a way. Staring down at the now weather worn cross, Julie was at a loss for words. What did you say to someone about moving on? About the guilt it instilled in you. She picked at a thread that was unraveling at the bottom of her tank top and then hugged her arms around herself as she as she finally worked up the courage to settled on the dirt and grass covered mound. She picked a few healthy blades, shredding them into pieces.

"I don't know what I'm doing anymore, Merle," she confessed as she let the grass fall into her lap as she continued to pull it into pieces, "everything about this feels...feels like it should feel wrong and I shouldn't even be thinking about it. He's your brother."

When he voice broke, she finally looked up from her lap and out at her surroundings. "Not just that, but he doesn't know what happened to me. I don't want him to." She heard herself sniffle, the first sign that she'd begun to cry. "With you it was different. You saw what they did. You saw I was broken and you wanted me anyway. Cause you were broken and you knew what it was like to be so, so fucked up."

Julie stared intently at the cross and drew her knees up to her chest. It was all that was left to show that Merle had once been a real person and that was a hard thing to stomach, knowing that once she and the others were gone, not only would he be faceless, but also nameless. He wouldn't even be a memory anymore.

"Julie," a hesitant voice asked behind her and she hugged her knees closer to herself as the intruder settled down on the ground beside her. Of all the people to come and get her, she hadn't expected it to be Carl Grimes. "I haven't been out here in awhile. I don't even know what to say when I pass her cross."

Julie remained silent and Carl cleared his throat and scratched at his head. "I been thinking about this for a real long time and-and I just wanted to say I'm sorry about what happened to Merle."

She whipped her head around to look at him, surprise clear in her eyes and the guilt that shone in the young boy's own eyes grew. "I know nobody said anything to you like that because they hated him for what he did to Maggie and Glenn, but I know you and I know Daryl and I know that the two of you wouldn't have loved him if he hadn't been good to the two of you."

"He saved my life," Julie admitted, averting her gaze to the cross once more. "He could have walked away and said I was a lost cause. Anybody else would have. But he saved me and he took care of me."

"And I'm sorry you lost him."

Blinking away tears, Julie gave him a watery smile. "Thanks, Carl. It means a lot to me that you care."

The boy shrugged, clearly uncomfortable with the sensitivity of the subject they were discussing. He focused his line of sight somewhere else. "It just seemed wrong how everyone just ignored the pain you were in," he revealed, looking even more uncomfortable, "with Daryl, it was okay, you know? He doesn't want people to see when he's hurting or know that he's even been hurt. But with you, everyone just looked the other way and it seemed like the only person who tried to help you was Daryl."

Julie was at a loss for words and could only nod. Carl took the opportunity to stand then and turned to her, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I don't really know what's wrong, but I can tell something's bothering you. Sometimes, when Dad's confused or whatever, he comes out and stares at Mom's grave. So, whatever's going on, I hope you figure it out."

She nodded, speechless, as she watched him trot back over to Rick, who was standing by the pigpen with a concerned, yet curious frown on his face. The young blonde turned her face away quickly and regarded the cross solemnly, feeling overwhelming helplessness consume her once more. "I need you to come back to me and tell me what to do. I need you to help me make sense of this."

She rose to her feet and brushed the dirt and grass from her bottom and turned to where Daryl, Gretchen, and Carol were loading up the small Ford Focus. Maggie was hovering over them with an exasperated look on her face, her lips drawn in a thin line and her eyes narrowed. She was obviously perturbed by the fact that the others were going on a run without her and she could pin it down to the fact that they were taking Gretchen, who still hadn't quite established herself as part of the group, and not her. Glenn looked torn between backing Carol and Daryl's decision and backing his irate wife.

Letting out a frustrated sigh of dread as she pulled her hair up in a sloppy ponytail, she joined the small group. Zach was leaning against the wall next to Beth as the pair watched Maggie as she snapped at Daryl, who had yet to respond. He hadn't even afforded her a glance as he leaned over the engine of the car, checking the oil and making sure the spark plugs were still in good condition.

Deciding to take a page out of his book, she ignored the brunette and went to stand next to Zach. She could tell by the look on his face that he had an inkling of what was going on. "How long you gonna be gone?"

She shrugged. "Two, three days tops. This isn't quite time sensitive."

"You're gonna be careful, right," his girlfriend asked and Julie smirked at Beth. "Of course. We'll be fine."

"Think you can get Daryl to bring us back a deer?"

She lightly punch her best friend's shoulder. "I'll see what I can do, but if not I'll at least get him to bag a couple rabbits for you."

"You know this is a stupid idea." Julie raised an eyebrow in surprise as Maggie slid in front of her, looking more pissed off than usual. Julie moved her hazel eyes from Maggie over to Daryl, who looked equally as confused by the sudden confrontation and then slid them back. She simply quirked an eyebrow at the older woman before stepping around her and then climbed into the back of the car without a word. Gretchen climbed in beside her. "That girl is such an uptight bitch."

"You have no idea," Julie muttered to her as Daryl and Carol climbed into the driver's side and passenger side respectively. Daryl looked up at them in the review mirror before starting the car. As the car filled with silence that wasn't entirely uncomfortable, Julie let her head fall against the window, letting the trees blur past them as they drove.

"This was a good idea. Smart," Carol said from the front and she nodded against the glass in response. She wasn't really interested in carrying a conversation with anyone and thankfully, Carol didn't say anymore. The quartet remained silent all the way to the gates of Woodbury. But Julie could still hear the maniacal laughter echoing in her head. There was no escaping the past it seemed.

* * *

And in the Next Chapter:

_Daryl didn't know what to say to that, so he simply said, "You know, Zach started in on me, too. Tryin' to figure out what it is I used to do."_

_"Oh yeah?"_

_Feeling her eyes on him, he nodded. "You know what his guess was on our last run?"_

_"What?"_

_He tried not to smirk, but failed. "Homicide detective."_


	16. Chapter 16

**Okay. So, as of now, this story is complete. I have finished off the last chapters and as it stands, besides this one, there are two chapters left. The last one is the longest by far. It still needs editing, and once that's done, it will probably be even longer. I really want to thank .love for the review. I'm glad to know you think I've gotten my depiction of Daryl correctly. It means a lot to me to know I've done the character justice. I appreciate all the reviews I've received and all the story alerts and favorites. It makes me happy to know you're all enjoying the story I've written.**

**I've begun toying with the idea of a sequel to this? Maybe? I mean, possibly. I don't know. It depends on the reaction to the last chapter. Which I feel like you'll either love me or hate me, but it felt like that was the ending this story was meant to have. Oh, well. I hope you enjoy this chapter, please read and review.**

* * *

Woodbury was relatively the same as it had been last time she'd been there. There was more dust, but it looked about the same. The were only a couple walkers inside and they set up camp in the same apartment she'd lived in with Merle. Julie was torn between feeling relieved and panicked at the idea of sleeping where she'd once lived with the older Dixon brother, but she shook the confusion from her head and listened as Daryl and Carol mulled over their options.

"There's a few places nearby that have been cleared, but we still might find something useful." For here, she thought, finishing where he had left off. The four of them were hunched over the well worn map and the hunter drew his finger in an arch around the eastside of Woodbury. "We'll head out this way. Since we've never pushed that far before, now's our chance."

"You gonna take the car?"

He shook his head in the negative. "We can hoof it. Besides, if you two need to get out of here, you can."

"You should wait to leave tomorrow," Gretchen said, "if you're going that way, it's too much of a risk and you could get stuck out there."

Julie and Daryl shared a look, communicating without words. Understanding that they were on the same page, Daryl turned back to the two women. "We can handle it. Been out on our own before."

Carol frowned at him, clearly not as confident as he was, but didn't argue. She knew it was pointless. "If you think you can handle it."

"You really should take the car," Gretchen pressed. "What if you find too much to carry. You can't just leave any of it for another group to come along and take."

"Fine," Daryl relented, snatching the keys from her outstretched hand. "We take the car, we're for sure leaving tonight. It'll give us a leg up on the scavenging."

"That's fine," Carol agreed readily with a pleased smile as she regarded him. "Just be careful, Sunshine."

Daryl growled at her in mock outrage, though his blue eyes clearly spoke of shared amusement. Gretchen smirked beside the older woman and then chuckled to herself while Julie merely huffed at the pair's antics. She still wasn't ready to spend so much time with Daryl. But this was important.

They left not long after, making sure to keep a couple blankets with them in case they were forced to camp out in the open somewhere. As they drove in silence, Daryl's muscles bulging with obvious tension, Julie shifted in her seat as she worked up the courage to finally break the silence. "Did you guys ever finish off that neighborhood I we picked Gretchen and Dr. S up from?"

He turned to look at her, his blue eyes flitting over her body as he tried to gauge her mood. "Naw, we didn't. Think we oughta hit that place first?"

She shrugged. "We got nothing to lose, right? If it's been picked over, no harm no foul. We can still keep looking."

He simply nodded as he continued to stare out at the open road. "Ain't been talkin' much."

Taking a page out of his book, Julie stared resolutely ahead, not even shrugging as she responded. "Had a lot on my mind. Workin' through some things."

"Bitch hit you real hard, huh," he asked, and she bit her lip as she looked over at him and the corners of her mouth started to turn up. Daryl looked her direction as well, biting at his thumb to cover his own small smile and she finally laughed. "You are such a fucking dick sometimes, Dixon."

"Yeah," he agreed readily and she chuckled once more, but once her laughter faded, the uncomfortable tension from before returned. Julie slouched down in her seat and tugged at the ends of her hair, gnawing on her lip as she gazed out the window without really seeing. Unnerved by her lax behavior, she sat up suddenly and Daryl turned just as abruptly to look at her, but she ignored him.

Julie had begun thinking critically about life within the confines of the prison and come to some very disturbing conclusions. One of those conclusions was that staying in the prison had lulled almost everyone into a false sense of security and people had stopped being as vigilant as they should be. They acted as though the prison's walls were impenetrable and that walkers were the only threat they could suffer. They were forsaking surviving in favor of living and that was a very dangerous thing. But the appeal of living instead of merely surviving was something she understood. And part of that appeal was sitting in the car with her.

"Do you ever miss being on your own," she asked, without meaning to. Thankfully, Daryl kept his eyes on the road. She didn't think she could stomach having him look at her in that moment. She felt guilty for even asking him such a thing knowing there was a very real chance he would become defensive.

"You mean out here on my own? Or..." He let the rest of the sentence trail off and Julie got the impression she was meant to understand what he was leaving unsaid. She hugged her arms around her middle and tugged at her seatbelt absently. "Yeah, out here. You just had yourself to worry about. Food, shelter, water. That was it. Now you have an entire prison worth of people to worry about. The weight of the proverbial world is on your shoulders."

Unlike before, the silence that followed was less stifling as he considered her words. When she continued, he hadn't expected it. "I miss it. I avoided people before. I ran into all sorts of people in the start and I stayed away from them. I knew they'd get killed. I didn't need that guilt or for them to hold me back and get me killed in the process."

"Why'd you stick with Merle then?"

She shrugged, remembering vividly the moment Merle bent over her broken body with that shit-eating grin on his face as he had harangued her mercilessly while the trees spun above him in her delirious state. "Merle may have acted stupid, but he wasn't stupid." There was a brief pause before she muttered. "Besides, nobody was ever gonna kill Merle unless Merle decided they were. If there was anybody I didn't have to worry about, it was him. And...and he didn't leave me there. I would have, but he didn't."

Daryl didn't know what to say to that, so he simply said, "You know, Zach started in on me, too. Tryin' to figure out what it is I used to do."

"Oh yeah?"

Feeling her eyes on him, he nodded. "You know what his guess was on our last run?"

"What?"

He tried not to smirk, but failed. "Homicide detective."

Julie blinked at him several times before she burst into laughter, bending at the waist and gasping for air. "You're fucking with me! No way, he guessed that!"

Daryl grinned and watched out the windshield. "I'm dead serious, girl. Swear to God that was his guess. Think he's just making shit up now."

"He guessed hotdog vendor for me once, but I don't think he could actually think of one on the spot." Daryl scoffed at that. "Hotdog vendor? What, like at baseball games?"

She shrugged as she smiled at the absurdity of it. "I did a lot of things. Waitress mostly. I was hitching to Atlanta when everything went down, though."

"You a waitress," he asked, disbelief lacing each word as he looked her over and she could tell he was trying to picture her in a waitress uniform and was having trouble doing so. "With _your_ people skills?"

She rolled her eyes and shook her head at him. "That was before everything. I was a different person sort of. I cared about different things because different things were important." She looked him over in a similar fashion. "What about you?"

She watched as he considered his words carefully, considered whether or not he wanted to tell her. He looked back out at the road as he spoke, and she could tell by his closed of appearance that he was nervous. "Nothing. Merle and I were drifters. We weren't any one place. I just kind of followed him around."

Julie let her head fall against the window as she watched him. She could see him chewing on his lip almost manically. He was trying to conceal it, one hand cupped over his mouth as he leaned almost too casually against his own window. She gave a shrug and looked out the windshield along with him. Lack of eye contact was something he appreciated in situations that made him uncomfortable. "Guess we were doing the same thing then."

"Hitchhiking ain't driftin'. Ain't near the same."

Julie pursed her lips and moved her legs closer to the door, turning her body more fully away from him. "I didn't start off hitching when I left. I stole a truck first."

She could practically feel the surprise roll off him at her confession. He didn't speak and she knew he was waiting for her to continue. "Moved out of the house I was living in right after high school with my boyfriend. Took us a few months to make it down here. I got a job as a waitress and he worked at a local garage. When I left, I stole his truck and when the tank went dry, I ditched it and headed out on foot."

The silence was intense again and she fought the urge to squirm while he mulled over her words. Just as the guilt was starting to slip in he spoke, sending relief soaring through her chest. "What'd he do to you?"

Julie refused to meet his eye, ashamed of herself and the situation she'd let herself get mixed up in. It was hard enough knowing it had actually happened and she'd let it get as far as it had. But it was made all the worse knowing it was something she'd brought on herself. All she'd had to do was walk away, make it harder for them instead of easier. She shouldn't have been angry; she'd seen it coming a mile away.

"He fucked my sister."

And there it was, the pity. Daryl Dixon didn't really do pity, but she could see it, the small sliver of it etched in his features as she watched him out of the corner of her eye. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you feel sorry at me for dating some fucking tool who couldn't keep his dick in his pants. I didn't give a shit about that. He could have fucked every single bitch in town and I wouldn't have cared," She was digging her fingernails into her arms hard enough that she was sure to bleed soon, but she couldn't stop herself. The anger and pain that welled up within her was all consuming. "It was the fact that he picked _her_. I hope that bitch is dead. If she ain't I'll fuckin' gut her, watch the Roamers tear into her."

"Why do you hate her so much?"

She shook her head at him adamantly. "I'm done talking about it. Ask me about anything else, but not that."

"But she's blood."

Julie looked at them then, her fierce gaze boring into his. "You know as well as I do that blood don't mean nothing anymore unless it's being spilled."

Twenty minutes later, they reached a local grocery store. The parking lot was covered in trash and there were several cars sitting out on the fringe, their windows busted out. Daryl parked near the store front and cut the engine, squinting in an effort to try to see through the pane glass window as Julie slid out of the car and shut her door as gently as possible. She unsheathed her machete and looked around, searching the perimeter of the parking lot for any signs of movement and found none. The only movement she could see was the branches of the trees lining the street as the wind whipped through them a little more forcefully than usually.

Daryl glanced up at the sky, cupping his hand over his eyes and Julie frowned when his bicep bulged at the action as she took an unconscious step back from him before averting her gaze to the cracked asphalt beneath her badly scuffed boots. "Looks like a storm's gonna be comin' in before too long. We're gonna have to make this quick."

Without waiting for her response, he pounded on the glass and took a step away from the glass as they waited. Five minutes of patiently waiting and nothing had happened.

"Guess that means go-time," she said wryly and he shot her a look over his shoulder as they walked to the entrance. He wedged a hand into the automatic doors and using his shoulder for leverage, slowly forced them open far enough to squeeze through. She slipped in behind him and they surveyed the darkened store together. Daryl bent down and picked up a discarded flyer. "Hey, look, we're in luck. Buy one get one free on Heinz Ketchup."

Julie cracked a grin and smacked his shoulder lightly as she followed him further in. The store didn't look quite as picked over as she had expected and she wondered if maybe this town had been hit harder than the surrounding areas. Maybe people had simply evacuated in a panic. Or maybe they'd been executed to prevent further outbreak right at the start. She'd heard of it having happened in several places all over the East Coast from several people back at the prison.

"Should be able to find a lot in here," Daryl told her, though that fact didn't seem to please him at all. "Town's a ghost town. Ain't seen a single walker or a dead body. Something ain't right."

"Maybe we should go."

He shook his head resolutely as he grabbed a shopping cart and pushed it in front of her. "We need this stuff. Let's make this quick. We stick together."

Julie shot him a half-hearted glare as she started to push the cart along in front of her. They started searching the store aisle by aisle, making sure to steer clear of the frozen food sections and the rancid stench that emanated from that area.

They searched through half the aisles, recovering more canned goods than she could have ever dreamed possible when there was a loud crack of thunder outside. Julie jumped, squeaking, and mindlessly reached out to grab the closest thing for support: Daryl. He turned to look at her, eyebrows raised at her comically horrified expression. "You've got to be kidding me. You're scared of thunder?"

Julie drew herself up as she huffed indignantly at him. "No, of course not! I'm terrified of thunderstorms. There's a very big difference."

He shook his head, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes and obscuring his eyes from her view, but she could still make out the white flash of his teeth as he grinned at her discomfort. "Naw, not really."

"You are such a dick," she whined petulantly, jumping when there was another clash of thunder. Daryl turned toward the front of the store, frowning and Julie scurried closer to him and peered around him in the same direction. "What?"

"Stay here," he ordered, pointing to the tiled floor for emphasis. She scoffed at the idea that she would really be willing to listen to him at a time like this and crowded closer to him as she practically tripped over herself to keep up with him. Daryl sent her an irritated glare over his shoulder in reply to her disobedience and she let her chin jut out defiantly. He rolled his eyes at her and returned his attention to the plate glass store front. The window was beginning to quiver ever so slightly as they peered out. He used his hand to try and wipe some of the dust and grime from it.

Old newspapers, branches, and even full trash bags and a chair went flying through the parking lot and the wind beat against the trees with enough force that it looked as though their tops would snap off. Even their car was moving in time with the gusts of wind. The formerly blue sky was now a roiling black as the storm clouds churned above them.

"Oh God, it's a tornado," she heaved heavily, her shoulders moving up and down with each of her wheezing breaths. "We're gonna die!"

"Oh, shut up," Daryl snapped at her. "We'll be fine. We just gotta find a utility closet. You clear it out and I'll get our stuff from the car."

He started to for the doors just as she latched onto his arm, her eyes pleading. "Don't go out there!"

"I gotta," he told her, trying to pry her fingers from his arm. They were starting to cut off his circulation. "I'll be right back, Jules, I promise."

She shook her head frantically. "No, no, no. Stay here. I don't want you to go. We can find more guns and more water and more blankets."

He jerked his arm out of her hold with more force than was necessary and turned his back on her. He was nearly to the door when she spoke again. Her voice was small and laced with fear. "I can't find another Daryl Dixon."

Daryl groaned internally, already sure of what his response would be. Turning back to her, glare of agitation in place, he jerked his head at her. "Help me shut this and we'll go clear a closet out."

Julie threw herself toward him and they each took one of the sliding door and heaved them together. They headed for the back of the store, covering their noses in order to ward of the stench of the frozen meat section they had to pass in order to get to the open doorway that led to the stockrooms and managerial offices. Just as it had been in the front of the store, the back was blessedly empty. Daryl shook his head and mumbled to himself. "If it ain't one thing, s'nother."

He nodded his head at the office. "We'll stay in here."

Pressing a hand to the small of her back, he nudged her in gently and Julie faced forward resolutely in order to hide the redness that colored her face at his touch, She turned halfway away from him when he entered behind her, feigning interest in her surroundings. Daryl came around the desk and began shoving it forward and up against the door. The building gave a great heaving groan and Julie couldn't stop the tremor in her voice. "Daryl."

He turned and backed her into a corner, shoving her to the ground and crouching over, effectively shielding her body with his own. She snatched at him and wound her arms around his torso, yanking him to her with more strength than he thought possible and he grunted as he toppled over on her, but she didn't seem to notice. Her eyes were clenched shut and her face was pale again.

"S'awright, Girl," he tried to assure her with his gravelly voice, adjusting his hands on the wall behind her as he tried to keep from putting all his weight on her. "I got you. We're good in here."

"I don't want us to die."

"Ain't gonna."

"But what if-"

"No," he interrupted, bringing one hand down to grip her upper arm and shake her hard enough to force her to look up at him. He met her terrified gaze with a steely one of his own. "We're gonna get through this. We ain't come this far to get taken out by a couple a rainclouds."

"I don't want us to die," she repeated, her voice steadier than it had once been and her hazel eyes were no longer as clouded with fear as they had been. He cupped the based of her skull in one of his hands and pulled her forward to rest her head against the crook of his neck. "Then we won't."

After what felt like hours, the building stopped creaking and groaning as if it were being torn apart and now only shuddered. Daryl finally pulled away from her, falling to recline against the wall beside her. His body was stiff and sore from having maintained the same awkward position suspended over her body for such a long period of time and he let his legs stretch out in front of him, exhaling with relief. Julie let her head fall against his shoulder and she wrapped her arms around his own. Daryl was too tired to shove her off and he knew she needed the comfort.

"Never thought you'd be afraid of a little old storm."

"Tornado ripped through my hometown when I was little. Middle of the day," she whispered. He wondered if she was irrationally worried that if she spoke any louder, it would come back for her. "Took out half my school. Killed thirty kids. It was the classroom three doors over. I was six."

"Shit," he breathed. He hadn't expected that. She nodded against him. "I know it's stupid. But it's something humans have never been able to control. Mother nature terrifies me."

"Storm's passed. We're fine now," he assured her woodenly, patting her hands with his own in an awkward fashion. He jerked his hand back to prevent her from grabbing onto it, but Julie didn't seem to notice his obvious discomfort. Finally, unable to stand her closeness-it was just so stifling and overwhelming-he pried her arms from around his own and scooted a couple inches away. She raised a condescending eyebrow at him. "You're not afraid of getting killed by a tornado, but you're petrified of a girl touching your arm. Didn't Merle ever tell you cooties aren't real?"

"Why d'you need me to make you feel better," he snapped back harshly, nearly snarling at her. "You ain't dead!"

"Yeah, I forgot. You do about as well with human emotions as a fucking Cylon," she bit out, edging away from him herself. She turned her face away and crossed her arms over her chest, presenting him with a physical barrier to go along with the emotional one she was busy building at his rejection. Coming to terms with her undeniable attraction to the redneck was becoming harder and harder to stomach. Especially, knowing he was repulsed by physical contact with her. _What an asshole_.

She was faintly aware of Daryl as he continued to rail against her for some perceived slight that she had no interest in being reamed for and she focused off toward the barricaded office door. She couldn't help but note how stupid this had been. Why had she just gone along with this? Why hadn't she pushed for Carol to go in her stead? She could have handled organizing Woodbury just as easily. Just because Carol was little Miss Susie-Homemaker at one point didn't mean Julie completely sucked at it. She had been painfully organized before. Living in a hotel had made it a must.

"-can't believe I'm stuck out here with your entitled ass," Daryl continued to bitch. She wondered if he realized it sounded like he was grasping at straws. Almost like he was digging for reasons to be pissed at her.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'd have cuddled up to anyone else," she assured him snidely, turning her nose up at him, "You think you're such a special little snowflake. 'Muh name's Daryl Dixon an' I'm the Bear Grylls a the apocalypse. I'm too badass to feel emotions an' the like'."

It had been a poor jab, but it still hit its mark and if she hadn't been so completely irate and bitter, she'd have found the way his entire face turned red with rage to be absolutely adorable. _Attractive motherfucker_. She crossed her arms more securely and gave him the most over-confident smirk she could muster. Daryl's voice boomed louder than the distant thunder outside as he shot to his feet. "That what you think? Think it's just an act? Think I'm some Goddamn joke," he yelled at her as he pointed at her, his voice growing louder with each word. Julie remained unfazed and that seemed to egg him on, fueling the fire within him. "Well, let me tell you, you're nothin' but a little lost girl don't know how to function without someone holdin' your hand!"

Julie scoffed at the idea, rolling her eyes and he darted into her line of sight, refusing to let her look away as he continued on meanly. "What you think I'm wrong? Think you're just some well-adjusted fuckin' bitch, when you're fuckin' crazy as shit! You think it's normal to fuckin' run around holdin' a man's hand cause you can't handle the shit in your head? Merle can't be here anymore to make you keep your shit in check, so you gotta pull me in, too, huh? Wanna saddle that fuckin' burden on me?"

The smirk had slid off her face mid-rant, but Daryl was too busy taking swipe after swipe at her. "Think I want some messed up bitch crawlin' in my bed every night cause she can't wrap her head around the fact that she done got raped-"

It was as if the air was sucked right out of her lungs then when his eyes caught hers after he'd come to an abrupt halt during his pacing. She could see the horror as it slid into his expression, cloaked by the shadow of his hair as it hung over his forehead. She drew herself up from the floor on unsteady legs, shaking with shame. But she'd be damned if she let him see that.

"You think I don't know what happened to me," she asked, her voice calm and dangerous. "Think I don't know I'm broken? Think I don't know I'm fucked up? Damaged goods? That for the rest of my life, even in the middle of this clusterfuck of an apocalypse that I'm known as 'that poor girl that got gang-raped'? You think I don't know?"

She wasn't sure at which point she started screaming at him, but she didn't care. He was gonna stand there and take it. "Well, fuck you, Daryl Dixon! Fuck you all the way to hell and back, you utter piece of shit!"

And then she lurched forward and passed him and lunged toward the desk, wedging herself between it and the wall. Daryl watched her, hands hanging limply at his sides. "The hell you doing?"

"Getting the hell away from _you_," she bit out nastily, groaning as she shoved the desk as hard as she could and it slowly slid away from the door. She adjusted the strap of her backpack on her shoulder and unsheathed her machete as she wrapped her hand around the doorknob.

"Julie-"

"Don't," she snapped at him over her shoulder, "don't you fucking dare try to talk to me."

She could feel her vision beginning to blur as the tears she'd felt building for the past couple minutes began to pool and spill. She kept her gaze on the door before her. "I don't want you to look at me. I don't want you to speak to me. And I sure as hell don't want you to ever touch me again. You disgust me."

She wrenched the door open. It should have shocked her, at least knocked the breath out of her to see the entirety of the back of the store had been blown away. Julie should have been startled by the walker that lunged at her, but she wasn't. She simply shoved her machete through its eye socket and stalked off. "Don't follow me or I'll fucking shoot you."

* * *

It felt clear. Everything about being on her own felt right. She felt better, whole, strong. There wasn't anything to tear her apart, lead her in a million directions. No Daryl Dixon to muddy up her mind and make her want things she could never have. He thought she was fucked up by those men, but he was wrong. She'd become fucked up a long time ago.

She wiped at her face, cursing the tears that stubbornly refused to stop falling and focused on the sound of her boots as they smacked against the wet asphalt below her feet and she sidestepped a fallen tree branch with a walker pinned underneath. She slowly pressed the tip on her blade through its brittle cranium and it went slack. She pried the machete out of the rotten corpse and glanced around, weighing her options.

She knew, despite her warning, Daryl would follow. He'd never apologize after what he'd said, but he'd follow her and try to keep her safe and she didn't want or need that. What she needed was to figure out if she should keep to the road or try to ghost through the woods. If she went for the woods, he'd pick up on her tracks easily and while the car they'd driven in had been totaled by the tornado, that didn't mean he wouldn't figure on her sticking to the road. Julie rubbed at her forehead, the beginnings of a headache coming on.

After another minute of debating with herself, she decided to stick to the road. It was what she had always done. What she should have done the day those men had gotten ahold of her, but she'd been reckless that day. The farther she walked, the more confident she became, the more easily she could breathe, and the freer she felt. Maybe she did look insane, tears running down her face as she smiled widely to herself, she was finally free. The only thing she was responsible for now was herself. And it struck her then.

She didn't have to go back. She didn't have to return to Woodbury. She felt all of it drain out of right then and there. All the fight, the guilt, the hurt as she pulled the dogtags from her front pocket and ran her fingers over them as she paused in her steps, finally staring up at the path that lay ahead of her. There was a road that curved off to the left, leading right back to Woodbury and back to the prison, back to a caged in, life full of complications.

But if she stuck to the main road, she was free of all of it. Her conscience would be clear. She wouldn't have to worry about anyone or mourn another death again. Daryl Dixon would be a distant memory just like every other man in her life. The sun shone above like a beacon of hope and with nothing more than moment's hesitation, Julie passed the turn off, sure to keep her eyes trained ahead. The chances were slim, but there was no way she was going to let her resolve weaken. She was tired, drained, done. She didn't want this life anymore. She wanted to go back to surviving, not battling to live.

Forty-five minutes of walking and a sign finally popped up, letting her know there was a town five miles ahead. She heaved her back pack higher up on her shoulder and quickened her pace. It was imperative that she made it there by nightfall. There was no way in hell she was getting stuck outside at night. Debris from the storm was still evident by the second mile and the sky had lightened up enough for her to know that there wouldn't be another downpour. Most of the grey clouds had dissipated and the sky was still a pale blue. Julie guessed it to be some time after noon easily. That meant she still had time to get to a building and clear it. Maybe even find a car. She was going to need a car if she was gonna be on her own again. She needed one for a quick getaway.

She balled her hands into fists and paused, her steps faltering. She was still clutching Merle's dogtags loosely. She stopped moving, staring down at them, running her thumb over them and felt twinge of guilt. She was leaving Daryl behind. The only other person Merle had ever given a damn about and she was abandoning him. She pursed her lips in consternation and exhaled sharply through her nose. Merle wouldn't have faulted her for leaving. He'd have given his younger brother a sound beating on the way out and he never would have looked back. Sure Merle liked to dig at people during an argument, but he would never offer up such a low blow. Even he had limits.

"If he hadn't said it, I wouldn't have left," she reasoned aloud to herself as she slipped the tags over her head and then slipped them under her shirt, "he brought this on himself. He can be the one to tell everyone was a shitheel he is."

She continued on when far off the left side of the road there was the sound of a twig snapping accompanied by a few leaves rustling against the forest floor. Julie drew her gun first. If it was a Roamer, she had enough time to trade it out for her machete. But if it was a person, she didn't need them coming out aiming for her either. She looked around herself, eyes flitting around wildly, making sure nothing was about to get the drop on her when the man staggered out from the trees with his hands raised. She watched as he struggled to climb the steep incline toward the road she was standing on, keeping her gun trained on him the entire time. He huffed and puffed as he pulled himself onto the blacktop, leaning forward and resting his hands on his knees as he wheezed.

He had sandy blond hair, light brown eyes, and he was clean shaven. His clothes looked like they'd recently been washed as well although his khaki cargo pants were crusted in dried mud and there were several grass stains on the knees. All in all, it looked like he had people. She eyed him warily as he finally drew himself up.

"Wow," he breathed, smiling widely, "finally. Another person."

She wisely kept her mouth shut and raised an eyebrow at him. He held his hand out for her to take. "I'm Michael."

"Stacey," she said quietly. When she didn't make a move to take his hand, he withdrew, looking not at all insulted. "How long you been on your own?"

"About three days," he said and it sounded like more of a question. "I was traveling with a couple other guys but they...didn't make it. What about you?"

"Had a group down South, then a herd came through. I was the only one who made it out," she answered shortly. "What do you want?"

"Well, I thought maybe we could pair up until we find some place new? Like, a new group or something?"

"Ain't looking for company," she told him after a few minutes of deliberation. "Just looking to get to the next town before nightfall."

"That's fine," he agreed enthusiastically. He was grinning even more than he already had been if that were possible. It was off-putting to say the least. She let her eyes run over him again. He was just so clean, almost as if he had cleaned himself up before coming up to meet her on the road. She stepped back and away from him, dropping the gun to her side. She could tell just by the way that he carried himself that he didn't view her as a threat. Might as well play into it. She watched him out of the corner of her as he leisurely strolled beside her, obviously pleased with her silent acceptance of his presence. She eyed his over packed hiking pack. It had to weigh easily fifteen pounds or more and it was in good condition. There was hardly any wear or tear on it. That was also suspicious.

"So, you weren't being chased by a herd or anything were you," she asked with faux concern, "do I have to worry that I'm gonna have to run soon?"

He shook his head and gave her a reassuring grin that did nothing to help her relax. "No, when I got away, I just ran. Musta ran for like two days straight. If they're headed this way, won't be for a while."

Julie had run for two days straight once. She'd had to lock herself in the janitor's closet of a gas station so that she could sleep for an entire night and day. It had been a miserable experience. There was no way this man should have been on his feet anymore. He should be practically delirious and dying of dehydration. Not to mention, how the hell had he made it through the storm if he was just gallivanting through the woods? Something was not right. Making sure to keep her expression blank, she soldiered on, careful to keep Michael within her sights without drawing attention to her subtle actions.

"So, Stacey," he started, his voice light and deceptively friendly, she turned to look at him, affecting an expression of mild curiosity. "How'd you end up with your old group?"

"Some of them were family," she said quietly, dropping her gaze to focus on his boots, "brother, sister. Boyfriend. Herd came through in the middle of the night."

"I'm sorry," he said and while it sounded apologetic, it didn't ring true. He wasn't sorry. Not in the least. "What about you?"

He frowned. "They started fighting about where we should go. One of them thought we were going in circles. They got too loud and we dropped our guard. It was stupid. They were on us by the time we even knew it. I didn't even try to fight them off, I just ran."

She had no doubt about that. If his story had indeed been true, there would have been blood somewhere on his clothing. There wasn't. It was nothing but boldfaced lies at this point. They regarded one another openly and the picture he provided which had at one point been blurry, was becoming clearer. Michael was a conman and he was utilizing the one skill that he'd been using all his life. He was surviving the way he'd been surviving all along. He didn't want to go through the trouble of sticking his neck out any further than necessary. He'd rather spin a 'woe is me' yarn, toss out a few 'aw shucks' grins, and then make off with all your supplies in the middle of the night. He looked like a clean-cut good ol' boy, which she assumed meant he thought that would appeal to her, which further revealed not only what he thought of her, but that he'd been observing her probably since she left that damned grocery store.

Julie knew his type well-enough, seen the con played before, but she'd been wise to it long before the turn. She'd helped Jason pull it off a time or two on their way down to Georgia when they'd needed the money bad enough. And Mick, shit, that man had made a killing on it.

"You don't seem too broken up about your boyfriend," he prodded and she drew up short. "If you're expecting me to cry on your shoulder, you can forget it. I've cried enough already. I just want to find shelter."

The town was much smaller than she had expected. It consisted of one street and was clearly one of those small towns that had just recently cropped up in the middle of nowhere. Julie groaned inwardly in disappointment as she and her new companion took in the small town from a distance.

"This is a one horse town if I ever saw one," he drawled finally and she couldn't help but nod in agreement. "Still wouldn't hurt to look. Probably aren't very many roamers in the area."

A post office, a bar, a courthouse/town hall, a barbershop, a fifties style diner, and a smalltime grocer made up one side of the road. The other side included an insurance agency, appliance store, a western goods shop and an antique store.

"Where should we start?"

She pointed at the storefront with several mannequins modeling wranglers and flannels. "I need some new boots. And we need blankets."

Julie took the time they spent clearing the store to study Michael and try to discern his intentions. He'd put himself first when they checked the back rooms, which had been blessedly empty. It was easy to see he didn't intend to harm her, but that his endgame did entail robbing her blind by the way she would catch him staring at her bag thoughtfully. After picking through the women's section and finding several long-sleeve thermals and a package of socks, she moved on to the shoe section.

It took her awhile to find the perfect pair of boots, but find them she did. A nice pair of steel-toes that would serve her well. She changed her socks eagerly, tossing the old pair in the shoe box.

"I'll take first watch, if you want," he offered, giving her that insufferable grin that was beginning to set her teeth on edge. She shook her head and gave him a weak smile. "I don't think I can sleep yet." She stood up and let her smile become a bit more genuine. "Besides, I think it's about time for another cry and I'd like to do that by myself if you don't mind."

He held up his hands in surrender and shrugged, "Be sure to come and wake me if you need a break. I'll stick close though."

She nodded to his retreating form and watched as he settled against the checkout counter. He tugged a rolled up blanket out of his hiking pack and spread out alongside the counter, propping his head up on the material with the pack discarded at his feet. Julie turned her back to him and set about moving the mannequins out of the display window and then moved a few clothing racks in front of it, hunkering down underneath them to give herself some cover.

The moon was full and it bounced off the pavement, illuminating the surrounding area. Nothing had changed since they had entered the store. It was peaceful. It was everything it should be. Michael was snoring softly. Julie took the opportunity to attach the silencer Rick had so generously lent her onto her gun when Michael stirred, snorting and rolling over. She frowned at the small racket he made and glanced out the front window. When everything was blessedly still, she crept toward him. Studying his prone form for any signs of near consciousness, she nudged his booted foot. Nothing.

She crouched down and slowly eased his pack away from him, the sound of the pack's material sliding over the carpet was deafening. Once she'd managed to tug it close enough, she rested her gun in her lap and just as slowly slid the zipper open and then blinked in disbelief.

Junk. The thing was jam-packed with junk. Things you didn't need in this life anymore. She managed to free a rolled up Playboy from where it had been wedged between a beach towel and a bottle of Jack Daniel's and raised an eyebrow at its sleeping owner. She scoffed silently to herself as she set it aside along with the bottle of Jack. That she would be keeping. That actually had a use. She pulled out the beach towel and something dropped into her lap. Tossing the towel far enough away that the noise wouldn't be quite audible, she picked up the item that had fallen in her lap and let out a small, incredulous snort. It was a wallet.

According to the driver's license in the wallet, his name was Andrew Phillips, he was twenty-four, from Montgomery Alabama, an organ donor, and he had a really nice smile. He also had dark brown hair and blue eyes. She pulled a couple of well-worn photographs from the pockets. This guy, Michael, wasn't in a single one.

Julie took her time sorting through the rest of the pack. The guy was definitely a packrat, but he didn't have a lot of useful stuff. There was a tube of toothpaste and another of Neosporin, a couple medical grade rolls of gauze, an ace bandage, and to her delight a small tea-tin with a travel-sized sewing kit and a suturing needle. The bottom of the pack was littered with protein bars and a foil pack of pretzels. There was a rolled up pair of ragged jeans that was caked over in mud and a red and white plaid shirt spattered in blood and gore. She scowled darkly at the sleeping man. _I got your number, motherfucker_, she thought darkly as she cut the mesh side pocket of the pack to silently removed the water bottle it was holding. She started around for the front pocket and noticing the ID tag attached to the zipper, she turned it over, scoffing at the information it held. She shook her head and rose up onto her feet, rocking back on her heels as she tugged at her bottom lip with her left hand and clutched her gun with the other.

She had two choices. She could deal with him right then, risk causing enough noise to draw any Roamers nearby, or wait until morning, when she would be too tired and more prone to making a mistake. Letting out a puff of air, she stood, rolling her shoulders and her neck, relishing in the popping of her joints. She bent to pick up one of the protein bars, tearing it open and chomping into it messily. He flinched and fidgeted in his sleep, but didn't wake.

"Must be one slick bastard to still be kickin'," she mused, before she kicked at his leg roughly to wake him up. "hey, Sleeping Beauty, rise and shine!"

He twisted around, disoriented as he rubbed his face with both hands. "My turn for watch?"

She didn't answer as she watched him slowly come to and his searching eyes finally landed at his pack that was laying by her feet. "What the fuck?"

Julie merely cocked her head to the side as she studied him. "You know, you're real good. I mean, I've seen better, but you're not bad."

"What the hell are you talking about," he asked, his face still contorted in anger and confusion. When he moved toward her, she raised her gun on him and he reeled back, bringing his hands up.

"So, you're just gonna stick to this, huh," she asked, gesturing to the length of him, her expression hard as stone, "'cause I had you figured the second you came out of the trees. Didn't quite know what your angle was, but I managed to piece it together quick enough. So, you still wanna keep going down this road?"

When he didn't reply, she lifted the wallet, turning it so that he could see the identification within. "Even pickpockets don't hold onto their swag. Nobody's got use for this type of shit anymore-"

"It was my brother's," he stammered and she rolled her eyes at that, but shrugged. "Hell maybe it is. But that raises a lot of questions, Michael. A lot."

She watched, satisfied, as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down along with his sudden bout of nerves. She could just barely see the way his hand shook. He was getting scared, which meant he was getting dangerous. Julie peered down at him. "Like, why you're carrying his pack-it's got a tag with his info on it-and not yours if he died-"

"It was bigger," he interrupted and she offered up another shrug. "Yeah, you did shove an awful lot of shit in it. I can see that. But then again, still, there's a lot of questions."

"Like what?"

"What's your _brother's_ name?"

The blonde turned the wallet toward herself and shot him a look as she hugged it to her chest. When he pursed his lips in frustration, she smirked at him smugly. "Man, you don't even know your own brother's name?" She clicked her tongue against the back of her teeth. "You know, I think now might be a good time to rework your story, Michael."

"What gave me away," he asked finally. She gave him a once over. "Well, for one thing, you're way too clean. You thought that would appeal to me, but it clashed with your story of being chased by a herd for three days. If that had been true, you'd have been exhausted and dehydrated and desperate for help. You didn't even mention the fucking tornado that ripped through here, which means you were probably traveling in a car, which I'm assuming ran out of gas. And you didn't think I was a threat. You came up on me without a weapon. Everybody's a threat nowadays." She shook her head at him. "Like I said, you're good, but you need work. You probably didn't even start conning people until the start. Am I right?"

His eyes shone with something akin to admiration then and she frowned at that. "You looked like easy pickings."

"Of course I do," she agreed. "I'm a pretty blonde girl all on her lonesome looking for love and protection-"

"How long?"

"Excuse me," she asked, irked at being cut off. He gave her a lopsided grin. "Were you a grifter?"

"Awhile," she admitted, and it was his turn to smile smugly up at her. "Yeah, takes one to know one, huh? Pickpocket?"

"Sometimes," she nodded, "whatever it took to get me from point A to point B. But that's neither here nor there. Point is, you tried to pull one over on me. You fucked up. Now, I want your weapon and I want it now."

"Fair enough," he agreed readily, and with lightning reflexes, he lowered his hand and then brought one up and hurled something at her. It was a knife, and it caught her in her left shoulder, slicing across her skin as it grazed her and she dropped her arm in surprise. Michael lunged for her then, bulldozing into her middle and knocking her back into a round rack of clothing.

"Shit," she hissed as she collided with the metal fixture and she threw her arms out on either side of her as her assailant slouched away from her. She brought her knees up to her chest and kicked out hard, managing to catch him in the chest and he staggered back and tried to grab for her booted foot. He managed to get a firm grip on it and tugged her forward, causing the clothes rack to tip forward and dump her to the floor. Her back hit the ground with a dull thud and all the air left her lungs. Julie coughed and kicked out hard with her left foot, catching his forearm and there was an audible crack. Michael let out an enraged snarl, dropping his hold on her other foot as he cradled his injury. "You-"

Without a moment hesitation, Julie kicked at him with her left foot again, this time catching him in the nose with her heel and fell back onto the floor, crying out again. Julie rolled up onto her knees and reached for her gun, which had been knocked from her hands at the start of the scuffle and stood slowly. Her back felt like it was on fire. She whirled back to face her attacker, gun raised. Michael was sitting on the ground, blood gushing from his crushed nose. Without a moment's hesitation, she pulled the trigger, gritting her teeth when the kickback rocketed through her injured shoulder and the gun clattered back to the floor.

Julie let out a heavy breath and wiped the sweat from her brow and then held her arm up to inspect her wounded shoulder. She frowned and fingered the hole in the blue plaid button up. "I liked this shirt," she mumbled crossly before kicking the dead man's leg meanly. "Asshole."

She crawled back over to the pile of supplies she sorted and grasped the tea tin in her shaky hands, threading the surgical needle gingerly. Julie tore the shirt from her back. Picking up the bottle of Jack Daniels, she unscrewed the cap and poured it on the jagged wound, hissing as the alcohol burned and stung. Taking a deep breath, she picked the needle back up and began sewing the cut shut, biting her lip hard to keep from crying out. There was a dull thud against the glass door leading into the store and she didn't even bother to look up at it. She knew what it was. "Be with you in a minute," she mumbled drily. Once was finished, she poured more alcohol over it and patted it dry with the beach towel and then wound a roll of gauze around it.

She shoved all her newly acquired supplies into her rucksack and stood, pulling another shirt from a nearby rack and looked up toward the entrance. There was a lone walker at the front entrance banging at the door weakly, its jaw snapping as it eyed her back. Julie tugged the shirt on and winced as it slid over her injured arm. She staggered to her feet and over to the front door, unlocking it opening it enough that the undead fiend stuck it's badly decomposed in through the small space. It snapped its slavering jaws and hissed and she sank the tip of her blade into its badly decayed skull and it crumpled instantly. She pushed it back out the door onto the sidewalk and shut the door and locked it again.

Julie slept through the rest of the night, hidden behind the counter. When she awoke, the sun was just beginning to rise and she decided that it was time to get moving again. When she opened the door to the store front, there was a very familiar car sitting in the middle of the street. She paused in the doorway and the driver's side door opened. The brunette gave her a pointed look as she leaned on the door, her blue eyes twinkling with amusement. "You done?"

Julie sighed out through her nose and looked down both ends of the street and then shrugged. "Yeah."

"Wanna go back?" It was a loaded question. But it was a question she knew the answer to. And she was so very resigned to it. The Dixons were a bigger plague unto her than the virus running through her veins. They were the ones that would be the death of her, not the Roamers. "Might as well."

She could hear Merle scoffing at her in her mind, telling her she was stupid for following a bunch of dumbasses. He probably wasn't wrong, but he didn't understand. She was fucked no matter what choice she made. Wasn't she?

* * *

Next Chapter:

_He relaxed at that and backed up a step. "Okay. What happened out there? What's going on between you and Daryl? Carol wouldn't say when Rick asked, but-"_

_"Fuck Daryl Dixon, this ain't about Daryl Dixon," she spat hatefully, hissing when it came out louder and harsher than intended. She shot a look over toward the guard tower, but whoever was on watch hadn't heard them yet. That on its own was worrisome enough, but she wasn't gonna say anything about it just yet._

_Zach looked taken aback by the heat in her words. "Jesus, what'd he do to you?"_


	17. Chapter 17

**Um, definitely toying with the idea of a sequel, just not sure if I have the talent to take it where I want it to go. Or to stay true to the characters the way I want. However, the way the next chapter ends, I could totally leave it there and be fine with it. I feel like it would be the perfect wrap up to this story if I just left it there. It'd leave you wanting more, but strangely satisfied if that was it. I don't know. Maybe that's just me. **

**Thanks still for the reviews and alerts and favorites. I'm kind of trying to get the last of this posted. This story took FOREVER to get finished. Daryl may be easy on the eyes, but holy balls is he ever hard to write. Wiley little fucker. So, might be either posting the rest of this today. Or tomorrow, I don't know. I might need to tweak the next one just a bit. **

**Parts of this chapter were originally at the beginning of the next chapter, but I didn't like the way it flowed and this one ended, so I tweaked them both and this is where it ended up. I'm sorry if it disappoints, but this is what needed to happen so far. So, sorry if this makes you sad.**

**I'm not even going to put up a damn disclaimer. You all know I don't own this shit. Please read and review.**

* * *

It was easier to ignore Daryl Dixon than she'd thought, but when she'd replayed their argument over and over in her head on the way back to Woodbury, it gave her the strength she needed to do so. His words still stung, still rubbed her raw. They reopened every single wound she'd received and she felt like she was slowly bleeding out.

Because she disgusted Daryl Dixon. That's what she now knew. He'd always pitied her, but he'd been able to mask it so well. She didn't want pity. She didn't need it. She needed someone who would recognize her as an equal, care about her the way she cared about them. She needed someone who would look at her and see someone who had once upon a time been broken and was nearly fixed, who was worth something in this vast world of death and decay. She needed Merle back.

When they got back, Daryl was standing on the wall, ready to let them in.

"Where'd you go," he snapped at her. She gave no outward sign that she'd even heard him, purposely ignoring the underlying concern as she breezed right past him and into Woodbury like she owned the place. Carol was already making her way out of the former armory, eyebrows raised as she witnessed the discord between two of the closest members of the group. Hurt flashed in Daryl's sharp blue eyes and quickly dissipated as he returned to the task at hand, pushing his own feelings aside. But it didn't stop him from standing as close to Julie as humanly possible as she approached Carol.

"There's a town not far from here. They probably don't have much by way of food or ammo, but they had a clothing store that was practically untouched," Julie told her, marking it on the map. "Might have some useful stuff. I'm sure they didn't clean it all the way out."

"That's a pretty long way to walk," the gray-haired woman said slowly and Julie shrugged. "I'm a fast walker when I'm pissed." That wasn't a lie. People often had to jog to catch up with her.

"What's that about," Carol asked, gesturing to her bandaged arm. Julie poked it and barely managed not to wince at the jolt of pain it caused. It was tender and there was blood seeping through the gauze covering it. "Made a friend while I was out there."

"What kind of friend?" It was Gretchen who spoke up and she looked like she wanted to laugh at Julie's cavalier attitude. Julie found herself smirking. "The kind of friend you don't want to make. He won't be a problem."

She did laugh then and Julie let out a low chuckle. Ignoring the way Daryl was trying to burn a hole in the side of her head with his penetrating gaze, she looked back down at the map and then back up to Carol. "So what do we need?"

"I think the better question would be 'What _don't_ we need.'" She huffed to herself for a second and then looked out over their surroundings. "Medical supplies, blankets, food, weapons, clothing, batteries, gasoline for the generators, we need all of it. And if we can get enough for this place to function the way we want it to, we'll need people to guard this place, too. And who's gonna want to volunteer for that? You know how everyone feels about this place."

"I will." Julie didn't need to think about it. Staying here and guarding their second settlement wouldn't be an inconvenience for her. It would be a Godsend. She wouldn't be quite so caged and she would be away from Daryl. Two birds with one stone. "I never liked it here, but it was bearable. I don't really have bad memories of this place. I can stomach it and maybe we can get a few people from the Decatur group to help out. They weren't from here."

"But they know the story."

Julie just looked at her. "A story's just a story. They weren't here, they don't really know. Besides, we need this. We gotta have somewhere to run to and if we can get some long range walkies set up, we can coordinate an escape better."

"You're not wrong," Carol conceded. "But some people aren't gonna see it that way."

"Then they can run to the middle of nowhere and everyone else can run here to safety."

"Not that this isn't a riveting discussion, but can we get to work," Gretchen whined, looking over at the trio with a bored expression, "we have a lot of work to do and not enough time to do it. Let's get our fine asses in gear and get it done. Then we can bitch about how people react afterward."

"I'm game."

Gretchen gave her a saucy smile. "Good. I'll go out with you this time. Figure you could use more tits and less dick this go around."

Julie laughed outright at that. Gretchen was blunt and opinionated and everything Julie liked in a person. Their friendship had been easy to form. Gretchen still made Zach uneasy with the way she constantly flirted with him, but he was slowly getting used to just ignoring it.

"That gonna be a problem for you, Davy Crockett," Gretchen asked facetiously as she pinned Daryl with a searing glare. He stared right back, obviously unfazed by her challenging look and shrugged his shoulders and then strode off without a word. Gretchen watched him go, lips drawn in a thin line and then she looked back toward her blonde friend. "Prick."

Julie gave her a grateful half-smile. Carol looked between the two women and frowned. "What happened out there?"

"Some things were said that shouldn't have been said. That's all you need to know."

* * *

The run with Gretchen had gone smoothly and She learned a lot about the brunette. Gretchen was twenty-nine and she had been a cold, hard bitch for every single one of them. Her home life hadn't been a cakewalk but it hadn't been as rough as Julie had expected. Her parents were divorced and it had been nasty. Gretchen had been used as a pawn in the proceedings and she'd learned at a very young age that her parents cared more about hurting each other than taking care of her. Gretchen had grown up angry and alone and full of spite, which she then channeled into a kickboxing class and several self-defense courses. She liked men, but she liked to mess around with the fairer sex when the occasion arose and she'd been in Atlanta when shit hit the fan.

She broke into Dr. S's clinic to steal meds and that was how she had ended up with the good doctor and Dana. They'd been a part of a small group that had lived in a roadside diner for a few weeks before it got overrun and then it was just the three of them from then on. Gretchen was as tough as she looked.

She and Gretchen worked hard to get the town sorted and the supplies they'd managed to gather, put in their rightful places. "Who's gonna stay behind to watch this place?"

The other three looked up at the woman and the four of them fell into silence. Gretchen gestured to the room around them. "We can't just leave all this shit here for other people to pick over it while we're back at the prison. Someone needs to stay behind."

"We didn't even think of that," Carol groused, bringing a hand up to her forehead. Julie fell back against a table that had a stack of canned good on it. Gretchen looked at all of them and then shrugged flippantly. "I'll stay. You guys are gonna have to have a council meeting on this and I don't think I should be there. I might get mouthy."

Julie grinned as she thought about that. Daryl nodded silently to Carol, obviously agreeing with Gretchen's logic.

"Fine. If everything goes to plan, we'll send someone out for you in a couple days, or we'll send more people to guard with you."

They finished moving everything and then Daryl, Julie, and Carol piled into the remaining car and returned to the prison. Julie closed her eyes, trying to sleep as she stretched out along the back seat, her body rocking slowly with the car as it moved along the pavement headed back toward the prison.

"What did you say to her out there?" The words caught her off guard and Carol had spoken so softly she wasn't sure she had heard her right.

"Somethin' I shouldn't have. Somethin' I didn't mean."

"You fucked up."

"Yeah."

"You need to fix it. We all have to live together, you know. This could harm the group. Julie's a wildcard, but she's one of the most useful people we have-whether anybody else wants to admit it or not."

The rest of the car ride was silent and Rick and Michonne met them at the gate. Carol and Daryl took it upon themselves to tell him how things had gone while Zach came down from the inner courtyard to hug Julie and welcome her home. "You look rough," he told her, his eyes full of concern. She tried to give him a reassuring smile and hugged him again. "I feel like I could sleep for a month."

"Julie," Rick called her over, waving his hand at her. Reluctantly, she left her best friend and trudged back over toward the small group standing next to the car. He gestured toward her shoulder and gave her a searching look. "Heard you ran into some trouble?"

"I took care of it." That seemed to be all the answer he needed and he nodded at her. "I want you to be at the council meeting tomorrow. This was your idea and I think you should be the one to talk on it. You lived there and you know about the town and I think you might have a chance at convincing Glenn. If you can convince Glenn, you've got your go ahead."

Julie nodded once and then looked around. "Cool. I'll be there. I'm gonna go pass out in my cell for awhile if anyone needs me."

Rick gave her a single nod by way of dismissal and she Made her way to the cellblock. She smiled tiredly at everyone who greeted her, but didn't stop to chat. Sleep was all she could think about. Her cell, was dark and cool and everything she'd been dreaming of for the past fifteen minutes. She dropped her back by the foot of her bunk bed and sat down, almost humming with appreciation when the bedframe creaked in protest at her added weight. Jerked her newly acquired boots and socks from her feet and wiggled her toes and then fell back on the bed to unbuckle and shimmy out of her pants as she set her machete and its sheath on the chair next to the bunk. Julie wrapped her threadbare blanket around herself and fell back on the bed.

When she opened her eyes, she was sitting in the field and Merle was next to her, staring up at the sky. He hadn't changed a bit and she supposed that he wouldn't, considering it was her dream and all. There were no walkers snapping and snarling on the outskirts of the field.

"So, my brother finally stuck his foot in his mouth with you for good this time, huh?" He clicked his tongue a few times while he shook his head and rubbed his jaw. "Always been a mouthy little shit."

"You never would have said that to me."

"Naw, I wouldn't have," he agreed, giving her an appraising look, "you don't need no reminders. Nobody does."

She watched a bird as it wafted through the breeze and sighed. "I wish the world still looked and felt like this."

"You know as well as I do ain't no dreams ever comin' true again."

Julie watched him, watched as he watched her right back and then looked away again. "Where'd all the Roamers go?"

"Roamers, you still callin' 'em that?" He scoffed and shook his head. "Least you ain't callin' Walkers instead."

"Merle, would I do better on my own?"

"You'd survive better," he told her honestly, giving her an unreadable expression. "But ain't gonna be livin' at all."

"I'd shoot myself before I let myself turn."

He let out a long laugh and wrapped an arm around her, hugging into his side. "That ain't the kinda livin' I mean. Livin', Peaches, not just goin' day to day like you was 'fore I found you. You been livin' since then. You go out there, on your own, you ain't gonna hurt from losin' people, but you and gonna do much else neither. You'll hunt, you'll kill, you'll hide. And then one day it'll end. You'll eat your own gun and there won't be anyone with ya to mourn ya."

"I don't want anyone to hurt when I'm gone."

"So, Zach, Carol, Beth, Rick, Maggie-"

"They'd miss me, but they'd never know I was gone gone."

"And Daryl?"

"What about him," she asked bitterly, drawing her knees up so she could wrap her arms around them, "he don't give a shit."

Merle nudged her shoulder with his elbow. "But you do. You love 'im."

Her head snapped up to look at him and he gave her that salacious grin he was so fond of practically assaulting people with. "Oh yeah, you do. I see it clear as day. Bet ya anything there's a fair few other back at that prison that see it, too. Just thinkin' any day now, you two is gonna shack up."

Julie was awash with shame. Shame at know Merle knew she'd moved on from him and to his brother. That she should even want something like that with someone who thought so little of her. It made her feel even more worthless than she already had. Why? Was she doing this to herself? The world was already trying to pull her down and break her and she was willing to put herself down even more?

"What do I do?"

"That's up to you, I can't tell you what you should do, Peaches, you know that." Merle gave her a wry grin, "But, you should probably wake up now. That burden you been carryin' is gonna be gettin' real heavy soon."

Julie, startled awake, rocketing up from the mattress she'd been passed out on and she pressed a hand to her chest as she breathed in deep to steady herself. It was dark in the cellblock; night had fallen and she had slept longer than she had expected and nobody had bothered to try to wake her. She pulled her jeans back on and fished a clean pair of socks out of her pack. The yanked them on and stomped her boots on, lacing them up and double tying them. Merle had given her a warning and she needed to heed it.

Julie slipped out of her cell and down toward Zach's. Peeking in around the curtain, she could see he was still up, reading some novel he'd probably gotten from the library. Feeling eyes on him, he looked up. When he saw her standing there, the worried expression on her face, he stood up in an instant. "What is it?"

She held up a finger and looked out onto the catwalk and then back at him when she didn't see anyone. Julie gestured for him to follow her and they crept down the steps and out of the cellblock together. When they were outside, Julie led him over to a part of the inner courtyard of the prison that was shadowed from sight. Zach let his eyes run over her, trying to make out her somber expression in the blackness that shrouded him. "You look like you've seen a ghost, Jules."

"I saw Merle."

He relaxed at that and backed up a step. "Okay. What happened out there? What's going on between you and Daryl? Carol wouldn't say when Rick asked, but-"

"Fuck Daryl Dixon, this ain't about Daryl Dixon," she spat hatefully, hissing when it came out louder and harsher than intended. She shot a look over toward the guard tower, but whoever was on watch hadn't heard them yet. That on its own was worrisome enough, but she wasn't gonna say anything about it just yet.

Zach looked taken aback by the heat in her words. "Jesus, what'd he do to you?"

"Zach, do you trust me?"

"Of course, I do," he told her instantly, "you know I do. What is going on?"

"I got a meeting with the Council about turning Woodbury into a an emergency shelter for the prison in case we get attacked or overrun here," she told him and Zach just nodded, "Yeah, I know that."

She scowled at him. "I know you know that, quit interrupting me, this is important." When he wisely kept his mouth shut, she continued. "No matter what the council says, whether they agree or not, they ain't gonna go there. Too much bad blood between them and that place. Beth, Maggie, Glenn, Rick, all of them, they'll move on. They're too prideful. They'll drive the bus and the cars off somewhere unprotected. They'll get split up. They'll get people killed. I need you to promise me that if the prison falls, you'll get to Woodbury."

"But what about Beth," Zach questioned, understanding the implications of Julie's words, "I love her."

Julie found herself looking at the concrete beneath her boots. "I'm pretty sure I love Daryl, but that does not mean I have to go follow him into the mouth of hell. It's about survival right now, this conversation. It's about surviving today so you can live tomorrow. I talked to Gretchen while we were out there. She's on the same page. Get to Woodbury. Once we're there, we can start planning out where to move to next. Woodbury isn't meant to be permanent, but it's the perfect place to start getting back on our feet."

"And what about everyone else? We just leave 'em to die?"

"Yes," she told him then, "I was made for this world, Zach. I see it and I see what it's hiding. I can teach you how to see it, too. You're my brother and I can teach you to live just as well out there as you've been living in here."

"You'd just leave Daryl?"

"If it meant surviving, getting a chance to keep on living, yes." And she was telling the truth. "Daryl isn't...he isn't who I thought he was and I've got to move on and protect my own on my own. You're one of mine."

"You think Merle would want that?"

"Merle would want me safe. Merle wouldn't want me sticking my neck out for some asshole who don't want me around regardless of whether or not said asshole is his brother." She was getting increasingly worried by Zach's seeming reluctance. "You gonna go to Woodbury or not?"

"Yeah, I'll go," he said finally, sounding resigned, "but I hope you're wrong. I hope they go, too."

"Hope is useless in this world," she said quietly and she headed back toward the cellblock. When they reached their cellblock, they split up, returning to their cells separately. Julie settled back on her bed, Merle's words replaying over and over again in her head. Sleep did not come easy for her.

* * *

Daryl couldn't sleep. The fight he'd had with Julie kept running through his head on repeat and he couldn't believe how horrible he'd been to her, to someone who meant so much to him. Julie wasn't just another member of the group to him. Somewhere along the way, he'd set her apart, placed her next to himself where she was within reach, where he knew she would be safest, where he knew she belonged. She belonged there; her place was beside him and it always would be and he understood just what all that implied.

It had bothered him days ago, but now that she wasn't there, in bed next to him, he felt that loss keenly, understood the depth of it and the finality that settled in with it. If she wasn't next to him...Daryl rolled over onto his back and tried to remember what it was like before Julie had come to the prison, when she was just that mute blonde who trailed after Merle. It seemed like that had happened years ago. That he had known her going on decades now. There had always been Julie was what it felt like.

And now, she wasn't there anymore. She'd pulled away and closed herself off from him and he would never get her back. She would never forgive him and he deserved it. What he had said to her was unforgiveable.

Sitting across from her at the Council meeting was torture as she refused to even acknowledge he was in the room, something everyone seemed to take note of. But nobody commented on it. Now wasn't the time to air personal grievances. This was about survival and the safety of all.

"The Governor is dead," Glenn declared, looking agitated and personally insulted at the idea that he would be forced to return to such a sinister place, "what makes you so sure that we need to be that careful?"

"He's not dead 'til I see his body," Julie said calmly. "You do realize the only thing standing between us and the dead are two chain link fences? Fences we have to clear almost daily. Woodbury has a reinforced wall that hasn't been breached by other people, and has been breached by walkers a grand total of three times. There's enough room for everyone. This would not be permanent. It would be a place for us to regroup and recover. Then we could decide what to do next. Gretchen stayed back to guard it-"

"No." Glenn was adamant and Julie snapped her mouth shut as he continued on. "My wife was almost raped there."

"I understand that, I understand how painful it will be to be there-"

"Do you?" Glenn asked and Julie looked away. "Yeah, I do. I understand it very well. But I also understand that it's better to be alive and living with that pain than dead and not feeling anything at all. This plan will keep us alive and together. If we need to retreat, we need a place to retreat to. We've stocked it with a fair amount of supplies. Enough for all of us to survive there for a couple weeks until we can find a better place, or finish rebuilding the prison if we can do so."

Sasha looked over to Glenn, her face apologetic. "It's a good plan, Glenn, one that should have been thought of sooner. We need this."

"I'm with Sasha," was all Daryl said, but he didn't miss the way Julie shifted in her chair uncomfortably at the sound of his voice as she hugged her arms across her chest and clenched her jaw.

"Being a part of this council means not letting our personal feelings cloud our judgment," Hershel said slowly, finally raising his eyes from the tabletop to look at his son-in-law, "it allows us to look out for the good of all and not just a few. This plan will help us survive. I vote in favor."

"As do I," Carol intoned and Glenn snorted in disgust as he looked to Rick and then looked between Daryl and Carol. "I can't believe you went along with this."

"It's passed, Glenn, let it go," Hershel urged, reaching to put a hand on his shoulder. Glenn slammed his hand down on the table and shoved out of his chair before storming out of the room. Julie raised an eyebrow and watched him go, not a shred of remorse on her face. This needed to be done. She sighed through her nose and looked at the four remaining council members in turn, though she preferred to look over Daryl's shoulder rather than meet his gaze. "Okay, now, in order to make sure this works, we'll have to station guards at Woodbury. Enough that we can keep watch on the perimeter and we need to establish communications between here and Woodbury. We need to decide how long people are posted there, who we'd be willing to spare, and so on. Now, this will cut into the food supply we have there, so a percentage of the food from scavenging will need to go there, but I'll let you decide just what percentage that is. Myself and Gretchen are willing to be posted at Woodbury indefinitely."

Everyone in the room was surprised and Daryl felt his stomach drop. So she wasn't just distancing herself from him emotionally. Feeling his eyes begin to burn, he dropped his gaze to his hands. Julie's voice was even as she spoke. "There are enough people here that we can make this work. It's just a matter of putting in the effort. We've got long range military grade walkies that should be perfect for keeping in touch. Rick has one and Gretchen has the other."

"Tyrese might be good for guard duty," Sasha said finally, "I mean, he might not want to leave Karen, but I think they both might prefer that to working the fence or scavenging."

"We could send Bob with them, it would be good to have a medic stationed there permanently, so we will always had someone who can take care of the sick and the wounded," Hershel proposed and Julie nodded. He watched her, his wise eyes taking in her expression. "You say you want to stay indefinitely?"

She nodded once and he spoke again. "Then, naturally, you should be in charge."

That seemed to catch her off guard and she cracked a reluctant grin. "I'm not much of a leader, Hershel."

He smiled kindly back at her. "No, I think you are, you just haven't been given a chance to do so. You survived on your own much longer than anyone else in this prison. You are an asset to this group and perhaps it's time we acknowledge that."

The table lapsed into silence and then Daryl spoke in a bid to ease the palpable tension. "It's about time I went out hunting, so we can get some fresh meat. Thinking I'll be out there a few days, make a sweep around here and up towards Woodbury if I can."

"If you're gonna be gone that long, take someone with you," Rick spoke for the first time. He gestured to Julie. "Take Julie with you."

He could see the refusal rolling around on the tip of her tongue as she shot a look up at Rick, her eyes wild with anger and he could tell by the way Rick refused to look in her direction that this had been a calculated move on his part. This was his way of saying, "Work it out."

"It's still early, we'll, leave before midday."

Julie was the first one up and out of her seat. She was standing by the fence with her pack and her machete, with Zach standing beside her and whatever he was saying, she didn't like, but she kept her mouth shut and nodded when he was finished. Once he got close to them, Zach nodded, but didn't smile. "Good luck out there."

Julie adjusted her pack on her should and unsheathed her machete. "Let's get this over with."

Zach opened the gates for them and they left together. Julie caught one particularly determined walker in the temple, following the motion as it fell to the ground and she put her booted foot on its head to help give her enough leverage to pull her weapon from its rotted skull. Her chest heaved as she took a breath and Daryl couldn't help but stare. He'd never actually stopped to watch her when she was like that, fighting.

"Look alive, Dixon," she called to him, pointing the tip of her machete over his shoulder and Daryl turned to find a badly maimed walker in a floral sundress ambling toward him with one arm raised. The skin was missing from her shoulder and part of her neck was gone which was causing her head to loll to the right and the weight of it was making her stagger off and have to correct herself. It wasn't much of a threat, but he should have been paying attention. He drew his bowie knife and plunged it into the back of her head after side stepped her and came up behind her. It was an easy kill.

They slipped off into the woods together, disappearing into the trees and the brush before any of the dead could tail them.

Animals surrounding the prison had become scarce and Daryl had been forced to hunt further and further out. It had been weeks since they'd had anything other than squirrel or the occasional rabbit. To say Daryl was hell bent on bringing back a deer would be an understatement. There were too many mouths to feed to bring back anything less.

The wind whipped through the trees and they both paused. The turned their faces up to the sky and Daryl noticed her grimace out of the corner of his eye. The sky was beginning to cloud over. "Maybe we oughta head back."

Julie side-eyed him, lips pursed as she finally spoke to him for the first time since they'd been at the supermarket. "People need to eat. Let's get them their food."

* * *

Thunder was rolling through the sky, loud and angry, and Daryl had caught her flinching at every resounding crack the sky let out. It was going to be a bad one, maybe even as bad as the last. Daryl lowered his gaze to the ground and watched as the wind pushed the leaves across the forest floor. The temperature had dropped a few degrees and Julie had unrolled her sleeves and buttoned up her flannel shirt to keep the chill away.

"We need to find somewhere to hole up. We'll come back out when it's over." She didn't respond, but he saw the way she relaxed visibly at his words and she afforded him a grateful nod of the head. He jerked his head over to the left and lifted his hand to point for good measure. "There's a house not far from here. Found it with Michonne when were out lookin' around. We can stay there until it passes."

She headed off in the direction he pointed out and he followed after her, always one step behind. She seemed very aware of his close proximity to her and though it clearly irked her, she kept her mouth shut on the subject and let him take the lead when he chose to. By the time they made it to the house, the rain was starting to fall in big fat droplets.

Julie looked up at the dilapidated structure before her and felt her blood run cold. She was sure if they exhaled to deeply it would blow the house down around them. How the hell was it supposed to stand up to a full on storm? Reluctantly, she followed the hunter up onto the worn out porch, chipping off some of the whitewash around the doorframe. Aside from location, the place had nothing going for it and the moment they stepped inside, Julie knew exactly what kind of place this was. Whoever it was that had lived here had clearly been an alcoholic. The inside was in clear disrepair.

Daryl set his crossbow down once he reappeared from one of the back rooms and seeing the way Julie was studying their surroundings with open disgust had his lips twitching. "There's a moonshine still in the shed."

She snorted and the look she gave him had no heat in it. Still, she didn't speak and he knew she was still, rightfully mad at him. She nudged the lazyboy with her boot and then pulled the curtains shut on the window next to it. Daryl shifted from foot to foot nervously as he watched her as he gnawed on his lower lip and looked over toward the kitchen. "I cleared out the closet in case it gets too bad out there."

Julie blinked over at him, her hazel eyes wide with surprise. "Uh, thanks."

He nodded and leaned against the doorframe, one hand above his head. It was so hard for them to look at each other, to talk about these types of things. If it were anyone else, this would have been apology enough, but Daryl would never have said something like that to them. Not since the Hershel's farm anyway. He couldn't understand what had possessed him to be so heartless to her.

The room lit up as lightning tore across the sky outside and then the thunder boomed loud and she jumped, her already widened eyes becoming even wider. Daryl took pity on her and held his hand out toward her, gesturing for her to follow him and She did so gladly. He led into the bedroom, which was just as dingy as the front of the house and there were stains all across the carpet. He pulled her toward the bathroom and pushed her inside, then disappeared before reappearing with his crossbow. He sat down right beside her on the floor after shutting the door and locking it.

"Some hunting trip," he said after a moment and she scoffed, her lips turning upward despite her inner protests. Daryl felt his lips turn up as well and he looked away from her, his thumb in his mouth as he chewed his nail further down to the quick. They sat in companionable silence until he couldn't stand it any longer. "Didn't mean what I said."

He felt her body rock toward him as she turned her head quickly to look at him, but he refused to let her catch his regretful eyes as he spoke softly, his voice full of gravel. "Don't even know why I was mad at ya in the first place. Said some stupid shit I never shoulda said, thing I don't really think. Just so I could-" His voice caught in his throat and he cleared it, looking toward the closed door. _Just so I could get you out of my head_. That was what he'd wanted to tell her. She was so far in there that no matter how much vitriol he spewed at her and himself, she was never getting out and it had only taken him twenty-four hours to figure out that sad fact. He knew what that meant.

Julie turned her body to look at him fully now, dipping her head so that she could fully make out the expression on his face and he turned further away.

"I'm sorry, too," she whispered, "I pushed you and I know it's a lot for you, putting up with me, with the way I cling to you like that and I shouldn't do it. I know that. I just-" She hugged her knees to her chest and tapped her feet on the linoleum floor as she spoke. Her voice was soft, hesitant, but sure. "You make me feel safe. You make me feel...you made me feel not so fucked up, like I was okay and I wasn't so worthless. Like I could mean something to somebody someday."

Daryl's body immediately snapped into action, his muscles tensing and pushing for him to recoil and move away from her, put as much distance between them as he could. It was the same reaction he'd had to her in the grocery store, the one that had caused so much trouble in the first place. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop himself from leaning away from her and she caught onto him and his whole body went cold when the tears flooded her eyes. "I don't want it to be this way, this feeling. I don't want this. I don't want this, I don't." She bit her bottom lip and focused on the cheap cabinetry of the bathroom sink. "Ever since I can remember, it was always about survival. Since I was little, with my Daddy being a drunk, my Mom leaving, sister. I just had to get through it and keep going and sometimes, when the mood suited me, I could really live, make a go of it, feel things and I was okay with that because it was normal. Merle fit into that, that was how he operated, too, you know?"

She blew out a breath and it was shaky. "But now..." Julie bit her lip again, hard enough that it was sure to start bleeding at any given moment.

"We all want to survive. No matter what," she said finally, and it struck him how moving it was the way her eyes shined with unshed tears. There had never been a time when something moved him before. Not like that. And broke him, in the places that needed to be broken so that she could build them back up and make him into what he should have been the way he'd been doing for her all along. "So why," she asked, "is it so wrong for any of us to want more? Why is it so wrong for me to want more?"

Daryl shoved his crossbow up onto the counter and licked his lips nervous. He'd never done this before and he didn't think she had either. This was new territory and they were exploring it together. There was something comforting and certainly poetical about that, that they could both be so innocent to something like that in this world.

"Jules." That was all he said. Her name and she looked up at him, her eyes still shining as her pale hair curtained her face and he reached for her. He couldn't not reach for her. Not when she looked at him like that, the way nobody ever had before. She let out a small whimper and scramble for him, latching onto him and her arms wrapped around his neck as she buried her face in his skin. Daryl tangled his fingers in her hair, rubbing his thumb over her slender neck and he felt her shudder beneath him.

"You cold?" It came out gruffer than intended, but she didn't seem fazed by it. He felt her shake her head against him as she angled herself further into him. It was uncomfortable only because he wasn't used to such contact. But it would grow on him; if it was her clinging to him in this way, he would deal come to accept and even welcome it.

"I think I love you," she whispered fearfully against his skin and he closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall as he tightened his hold on her. There was only one way this could end for the both of them and maybe there had only ever been that one way. "Yeah."

* * *

Nobody wanted to volunteer for guard duty over Woodbury. Julie wasn't surprised, but she was definitely a little pissed that she, Gretchen and Zach were the only ones willing to be stationed there indefinitely. Especially since this was to benefit everyone in the prison and she was more than a little bitter that it meant she was going to have to be separated from Daryl for an indefinite amount of time.

Nothing had really changed since she'd told him how she felt and that was more than okay. In fact, it was a relief. Neither of them were ready to go further than that and Julie was sure that they possibly never would be. But they'd spent all their time together before she'd had to leave. They didn't really talk, but the sat together, arms touching, sometimes holding one another's hand and it was one of the most cathartic experiences she'd ever had. Daryl just wanted her to be there. He was happy with that alone and it made everything seem clearer with that small revelation. But at the same time, it wracked her with guilt knowing that she wasn't what he thought she was.

It made her think about the grifter she'd killed in the Western wear shop. It made her think about how easy it had been for her. She had been the instigator. She could have easily snuck out on him in the dead of night and lodged elsewhere, but she'd killed him instead; not because she was worried about what he would do to others, but because she was angry he'd tried to do it to her. She'd killed someone simply for making her angry. Anyone else at the prison would have given him a second chance, Daryl included. She'd pulled the trigger and gone about her business like it was an everyday occurrence.

Julie thought that maybe it would be good for her to go to Woodbury so that she could have some space from Daryl and try to understand just what was happening to her. She felt crazy half the time and she was worried being cooped up in the prison was slowly driving her insane. While she got along well with everyone, nobody had really come to trust her that much besides Daryl, Zach, Gretchen, Beth, and Carol.

It was crystal clear Maggie was very opposed to Beth spending time with her and Glenn only interacted with her when it concerned an upcoming run. Sasha, she wasn't sure of considering she was reserved with everyone. Regardless, space seemed like the best option.

Daryl had pulled her in for a hug in the confines of his cell, holding her tightly against him and it had had a note of finality to it that neither acknowledged. Something felt off to her, but she kept her mouth shut, refused to worry him. If she voiced her concerns, he would insist she stay and she knew that if he did, she would cave and this was something that had to be done.

Carol drove her and Zach out to Woodbury after a less than emotional goodbye on behalf of the other residents of the prison. Carol drove the car back to the prison after handing Julie a long range military walkie-talkie and making sure she and Zach had brought everything they would need.

It was her turn for guard duty and Gretchen was standing up on the wall with a cigarette in hand. Gretchen gave her a half-smile as she approached. "You missed out on some heavy shit while you were gone."

"Oh yeah," Julie hummed out as she hauled herself up beside the older woman. "Like what?"

Gretchen puffed on her cigarette and grinned harder. "Someone tried to ram the gate. Came flying down the street going sixty. I put a few bullets in the windshield."

Julie could feel her eyebrows raise into her hairline. "You're fucking with me. Carol didn't mention this shit."

"Of course she didn't," Gretchen scoffed, flicking the ash off her Marlboro, "she was never that keen on this whole fucking project was she? Now, she can run back to Rick and tell him, they can bring it to the counsel, and they can all decide to throw all our hard work down the fucking shitter. Just like they've been wanting to do."

"But this was a good fucking plan for fuck's sake," she raged, raking a hand through her hair, "it was a one person attack and we successfully defended this post. What's to argue?"

Gretchen shrugged as if to say there wasn't really a valid argument in her opinion. "They'll just say it's too big a risk, the supplies would be better used at the prison, and they don't have the manpower to keep this place going."

The blonde threw herself down into the folding chair and let out a huff of air. "I am so sick of this shit. Their little inner circle is just...it's fucking stupid."

"Not gonna hear me argue." Gretchen settled into the chair beside hers. "So how's things with your boyfriend? Still pissed as fuck at him?"

"Not completely, but it's still a work in progress." She watched the other woman out of the corner of her eye and mumbled, "he's not my damn boyfriend."

"You two need to get over your shit and fuck already. You're both so tense."

"This is a tense world."

"Don't give me that shit."

"Then don't give me any shit."

"You know, if you two were fucking, you'd have even more sway with that stupid counsel of theirs."

"What a great incentive," she replied drolly, stretching her legs out and watching as a Roamer ambled aimlessly around the side of a house across the street from the compound. "Besides, it's not...like that for us."

"What do you mean?"

Julie bit at her thumbnail and watched as the Roamer tripped and fell over a trash bag. It smashed into the curb, its decrepit skull smashing open and spilling liquefied brains into the street. It didn't get back up. Gretchen snorted at the sight. "That's convenient."

"Daryl's got a lot of baggage...and I think I may have twice what he has," Julie said finally, "it's just better if we ignore each other and just...exist or whatever the fuck it is."

Gretchen rolled her eyes and climbed down the side of the wall. "Fine be the most boring person ever. I'm gonna go take a nap."

Julie didn't even bother waving her off and turned back to watch the wall. Woodbury was going to be boring as hell.

* * *

Gretchen picked up the walkie-talkie and fiddled with it in her palm, a contemplative scowl on her face. Nobody had radioed them since they'd last seen Daryl and there was a sinking feeling in the pit of their stomachs as to what that could possibly mean. Gretchen set the walkie-talkie back down in he lap and took the cigarette Julie offered her. She raised an eyebrow when Julie passed her the lighter, but didn't pull a second one out for herself. The blonde shrugged. "There's not that many left and I suppose now would be the perfect time to finally quit."

Things at the prison had never exactly been thrilling or even mundane, but Woodbury was absolutely mind-numbing. The three of them had played tag in the center of town right before dusk the night before and it had been the most excitement Julie had had since the pigs got loose in the prison. Sometimes, they got drunk off Merle's old whiskey stash and played truth or dare without the dare since there wasn't much they all wouldn't do. Once you've killed about a million zombies, nothing seems quite off limits.

Julie had finally finished off her Disney Princess coloring book and Zach had plowed through all four of the books he'd brought with him. Gretchen had taken to teaching them how to throw knives with practiced ease and that had quickly evolved into boxing matches to see who could beat the shit out of each other the best. Zach still refused to play cards with her and she was only mildly put out by that.

Gretchen didn't reply as she lit up and took a long drag. She slouched further down in the lawn chair, letting her head loll back against the chair back. She rolled her head to the side. "You think maybe they're all dead?"

"No. Someone would make it and they'd come here first."

Gretchen chortled in disbelief and shook her head. "It's not like they told everyone where we were. They probably told anyone who asked that we were on a supply run or something."

"Daryl and the others would come back here." Julie wanted to firmly believe that to be truth, but something in the back of her mind made her feel less confident in her response. She brought her hand up to her mouth and bit at her thumb nail. "They'll probably radio with the all clear when they get back with the meds and people start getting better."

Gretchen didn't say anything, but the silence was enough for Julie to know that her friend disagreed. She set the rifle down between her legs and puffed on her cigarette some more. "So, I know you two sleep in the same bed and all, but do you two actually do anything?"

Julie shot her a glare. "It's not...like that."

"How can it not be like that? You two get so worked up over one another just by being in the same room it's pathetic."

Julie shrugged one shoulder helplessly. How was she supposed to explain it to an outsider? That her and Daryl were perfectly fine with not taking things any further. That the idea of physical intimacy was terrifying on a visceral level? Not because relationships in and of themselves were risky, but because they knew how dark and dangerous they could be and that they left far too many scars to count. It was a risk neither of them were willing to take and it was a relief that they had an unspoken understanding about it all. They would never push one another and their companionship was of the basest form. That was enough for them. It was comforting.

Gretchen flicked the ash off the end of her cigarette and let her icy eyes flick over Julie's body in a detached manner before she looked back out at the barren, trash strewn street. "I was raped once."

Julie felt her entire body go cold and her muscles stiffen, but Gretchen continued on like she hadn't noticed. "I'd just gotten off work and decided to stop at some store on the way home. I'd been there a couple times to pick up milk when I needed to, so I was familiar with the area. It wasn't even that late out, but for some reason, maybe it was because I was distracted by being on the phone, I decided to park around the side of the store. I went in, got my milk, paid, and got off the phone halfway through the parking lot. I'd been talking on the phone with my Mom. The last thing she told me was to be careful and that she loved me. He grabbed me the second I ended the call.

"The entire time he had that knife to my throat, I wasn't even scared. I was pissed as hell. I kept thinking over and over that if I ever had the chance, I would bash his fucking skull in. Even now, just thinking about it, my blood boils." She took another drag and finally looked over at Julie. "I didn't let anyone touch me for over a year. Not because I was scared, but because it made me angry. When I think about it now, I'm not really surprised by what happened. The world's always been shit in some ways. There's always going to be something bigger and far worse waiting us out there."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you're letting it make you weak. You're not angry because it happened, you're angry because you're scared. That's not where your anger should come from. You shouldn't be angry at yourself. You should be angry at them for what they did to you and you should use that anger to make yourself stronger. Let it become a part of you, keep it from letting anyone break you and remind you that you're here and those fuckers aren't. There's no room for fear anymore."

"No wonder you're such a cold-hearted bitch."

Gretchen chuckled and open her mouth to respond, but stopped as a loud crack echoed from a great distance. They both bolted up from their chairs and Julie hefted her binoculars up to scan the distant tree line. "What the fuck was that?"

"That was an explosion, right," Gretchen asked. Julie shook her head, her head swimming with panic. "I don't know, but it had to have been. I mean, that was big."

Gretchen pursed her lips and quietly murmured, "That came from the direction of the prison."

"Go get Zach," Julie urged her. "Start getting everything ready in case we have incoming."

Gretchen slapped the walkie-talkie into her hand and hauled ass down the side of the wall before sprint off. Julie brought the wallkie-talkie to her lips. "Rick, Glenn, Carol, anybody there?" She waited a few seconds and nobody responded. Her breathing picked up as her terror increased and she fought to calm herself before calling again. "Is anyone there? We heard what sounded like an explosion. Is everything okay? Somebody please answer me."

There was another loud boom and Julie watched as a flock of birds took off in the opposite direction as smoke finally began to rise up into the sky in a billowing black cloud. Gretchen and Zach climbed up beside her and the three stood in silence as they watched the smoke billow in the distance.

"They're not answering," she whispered when she finally found her voice. Zach gripped her hand in his own, bruising hers with the force, but she paid it no mind as she squeezed back just as hard. "They know to come here," he assured her, but his voice wavered the barest bit. It was clear he was thinking about Beth and wondering if she was even still alive."

"Eveyrthing's ready, we just have to wait."

* * *

**I SAID I WAS SORRY. Don't be mad at me and quit making those faces.**

Next Chapter:

_Julie tried to turn in her seat, but everything ached and it was hard to see anything clearly, especially when hanging upside down. "Zach?"_

_There was no answer. "Zach? ZACH!"_

_Gretchen started fighting to turn around, too, ignoring the blood dripping from her forehead and nose-even as it dripped into her eyes. "C'mon, Zach, say something. You're scaring us!"_

_"Zach, please answer me, tell me you're okay," Julie begged as tried to undo her seatbelt with shaky hands you. "You gotta be okay."_

_Something crunched in the glass beside her head and Julie looked up just in time to catch the butt of a rifle as it careened toward her face._


	18. Chapter 18

**Here is the last chapter. Still trying to decide on the sequel possibility. I'm still very unsure and I'm happier with how this chapter played out than with any other part of this story, which kind of makes me sad. I know a lot of you like it judging by the favorites and all, but I feel like I could have done way better. And now I've made myself sadder. Ugh. **

**Well, for everyone who stuck by the story and comment and favorited, I just want to thank you all for your continued support and for sticking by it through despite how long it took me to update sometimes. It meant so much to me and it still means a lot to me. I really hope you enjoy this last chapter.**

**So, please read and enjoy. If you do indeed want a sequel, please let me know. I don't care if you review or PM, just make sure you let me know. If enough people say they do, I'll for sure post one. Thanks for sticking through to the end. I hope you like it.**

**Same disclaimers apply.**

* * *

It had been four days and they had not seen a single person from the prison. They were seated around the coffee table, candles burning as they each drank from the whisky bottle. The silence was oppressive, but nobody broke it in favor of trying to wrap their heads around the fact that they might be the only ones left standing. After a while Zach was finally the one to speak. "Okay, so, what's the plan?" His face was blank, a perfect mirror of her own, and Julie concluded it must be shock.

"Should we even bother looking for them," he asked. Gretchen spoke next, her voice as cold as her eyes. "Would they even bother looking for us?"

Julie was ashamed that she couldn't give her the answer she so desperately wanted. Daryl would have, but not if he had someone with him and they were running from whatever it was that had destroyed the prison. They hadn't gone back, but the smoke all the confirmation they needed to know something bad had happened. Julie took an extra big gulp of the burning amber liquid and slammed the bottle down on the table. "Well, I guess this means we just need to figure out whether we should go."

"We can't stay here, just the three of us," Gretchen agreed. Zach rubbed at his forehead and sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "The surrounding areas are too picked over. We'd have to move on anyway. Runs were taking longer back at the prison even before..."

...even before everyone died. Julie blinked rapidly and stood up, pulling out the map she had tucked in her back pocket. It was the same map she, Gretchen, Carol, and Daryl had pored over not even two weeks ago. She laid it out over the table and the three of them huddled around it. "The group started out near Atlanta and worked their way over. Maybe we should start working our way North? If we keep going South or East, we'll hit shoreline and back ourselves into a corner. If we stick to less populated areas, stay off main highways, we should be clear of Roamers."

"There's more of a chance of running into people, hostile groups."

Julie nodded to Gretchen, "Yeah, but I'd take that over a herd any day."

"So would I," Zach agreed, "and eventually, we have to try to find a bigger group. We can't stay on the road forever."

"You're not wrong," Julie agreed, though she balked at the idea of jumping to a new group so soon. To her, it was just an affirmation that their old group was gone. That Daryl was gone and she was never going to see him again. It made her eyes sting with unshed tears and she rubbed at them.

"So, now, which vehicle do we take? The military truck would fit all of our supplies, but it's a damn bulls eye to anybody looking to steal our shit." Gretchen let her eyes trail over the map slowly. "Not to mention it's loud as fuck."

"We have way more gas than diesel anyhow," Julie told her. "We could take two cars."

"And get separated," Zach exclaimed, "fuck that. No, we take the car with the best mileage and the biggest trunk. Food, all the ammo and guns, pack a bag full of meds, enough clothes for a week each and just go."

"Then let's plot our course and start a supply list."

It took several hours of planning, crossing out the places they knew that had been picked over, the places they remember hearing had been a red zone and so forth. They traced a red line as far up North as Rhode Island and stopped.

"How far North," Zach asked finally and Julie felt herself wilt internally when she realized they were both looking at her. Was she the leader now? She did have the most experience when it came to time on the road. She hadn't had a group until the prison-not one that stuck for more than a week. "We keep going until we find a good enough group or we die. And we keep going North. Just avoid the big cities and we should be clear."

She folded up the map and stuffed it in her pocket. "Zach, you drive, I'll navigate. Gretchen you sleep in the back and I'll wake you up to take his place. Then I'll switch with Zach and we'll keep that rotation up."

They packed in near silence, deciding finally on taking a Mercury Marquis that Zach had picked several weeks ago that Carol had driven up a couple days after their first trip to Woodbury. It was in fairly good condition, roomy enough to accommodate them, and the mileage was just marginally below decent.

Gretchen and Julie helped Zach move the Taurus from in front of the gate and then they all came to stand beside the car. Zach looked over his best friend. "Do you want to go back? Make sure-" he cut himself off and they stared out at the street. She shook her head finally. "No, they're not coming."

It hurt to admit that. But someone would have come to get them already. Nobody was coming for them. It hurt to care, especially knowing those you cared about didn't give a damn about you. Julie had too much experience in that department and it irked her that she was getting another dose of it now.

Zach insisted they close the gate and hide the grappling hook in the burnt out car on the side of the road just in case. Julie didn't bother to argue. Gretchen was already passed out cold in the backseat. Julie rubbed at her eyes and spared Gretchen a glance over her shoulder before she spoke in a hushed voice. "They have to be dead, right? I mean, they would have come back for us, wouldn't they? I mean, Daryl...he wouldn't have just...left us there."

Zach's eyes were full of sympathy, but she could see the flicker of doubt that burned within. "Do you really think he's dead? Do you really think him, of all people, didn't make it out?"

Her eyes teared up at his words. "Then why isn't he here?"

He reached over and grabbed her hand, trying to offer her what little comfort he could. "Maybe he got cut off by a herd or he's with someone else who's too hurt to be moved."

"Maybe we should go back and check? Just make sure the prison isn't standing?"

Zach focused back on the road and spoke softly after several minutes. "You felt that explosion. There's no way it's still standing."

"I can't believe it's ending this way." She let her head fall against the window and pulled her knees up against her chest. She could still see his face clearly in her mind. It hurt just as much to think he abandoned them as to think he had died.

"No. Me neither."

* * *

They drove until half their food supply ran short. They'd portioned it out to stretch as long as possible without having to starve themselves and Julie couldn't help but marvel at how well things had worked out thus far. Having been with a group for so long, being only just the three of them made her paranoid that they would be too crippled by weakness to carry on as long as they needed, but the three of them were determined and she was very sure that they would survive much longer than would be expected.

Losing Beth seemed to have hardened Zach and he was much more reserved now. He didn't try to make as many light-hearted jokes as before and he rarely smiled. Gretchen was her usual detached self and Julie felt empty, as though she'd been destroyed along with the group and was now undergoing the arduous task of rebuilding herself up with nothing to support her.

Once they crossed the border to North Carolina, Julie had felt even more exposed and vulnerable. It had been years since she'd been out of Georgia. It was unsettling. Her mind was already a hurricane of emotion crashing around recklessly and it was getting harder and harder to make sense of things. The laughter was back again and it was louder than she remembered. She clutched at her head when Gretchen and Zach weren't paying attention. Sometimes, Merle would talk to her, whispering in her mind about how this was the way the world worked now and he'd tried to tell her that she'd been better off with him and there wasn't any way he could save her now. He'd tell her that she would wish he had.

She dreamed of Daryl walking away from her, being swarmed by the undead, ripped open and eaten. Sometimes Merle would be standing over her saying she had brought it on herself and then the laughing would start. Zach had taken to watching her more closely and he sometimes sat with his arm around her, keeping her close. It helped marginally. Gretchen didn't acknowledge Julie's slowly deteriorating mental health-mostly because she wasn't all there either when it came down to it, but because she was resigned to the fact that there wasn't much that could be done. They were all hurting in some way. Only time would be able to take it away from them.

"We see anyone, we all have our guns pointed at their heads. No exceptions." She let her eyes drop from the windshield to the map in her hands. "I'm not getting caught by any fucking wolves out here."

"Wolves?"

"Crazy people," she told Zach, not bothering to look at him. "People who've been out there too long, most of them fucked up before the turn. They used to come down pretty far South in the beginning, but they stopped once they ran out of people to kill. I kept meaning to tell Rick about them, but it always slipped my mind. Guess it doesn't matter now. Not like it's going to do them any good."

"They sound pleasant," Gretchen said drily from the back seat. "But let's not invite them to tea."

"If I had fucking iced tea, I wouldn't be sharing that shit."

Julie rolled her eyes at the pair and continued looking over the map. "How we doing on gas?"

"We're on half a tank."

"Is there any in the trunk?"

"We got a couple cans, but we need to start refilling soon."

"Let's find a station."

They pulled up at the first one they came across and idled out front for a while. They could see even from the road that the windows were covered in a thick layer of dust.

"Anything we get would be worth it," Gretchen said and Zach finally pulled in. "I pump, you girls clear."

The station had been picked clean, but they managed to siphon some gas from a run down car parked behind the station and then they were back on the road. Once in the car, Gretchen popped open a bag of stale pretzels and shoved a handful in her mouth before passing it to Julie.

"Who do you think made it? Hugh Jackman or Dwayne Johnson?"

Zach scoffed as he tossed a pretzel in his mouth. "Neither. But if I had to go with one, Dwayne Johnson all the way."

"Hugh Jackman was hot," Julie murmured as she looked over the map.

Gretchen grinned and stretched out on the backseat. "This is the best road trip I've ever been on."

Zach glanced at her over his shoulder and pushed his hair off his forehead. "Then every single road trip you've ever been on must've sucked big hairy balls."

Julie let out a bark of laughter at that and Gretchen smirked as she shrugged. "I've never been on one. That's why it's the best."

"Does this mean you want us to go visit the Grand Canyon?"

Julie perked up at that. "Hey, when we get to Virginia, we should totally go visit Gettysburg."

"I'm game," Gretchen chirped and the two high-fived. Zach shook his head at the pair and rolled his eyes. Julie nudged his arm playfully. "Oh, come on. Lighten up, Bro. Try to enjoy the scenery or something."

Zach took one hand off the wheel and propped his head up on one hand. He sent her a sideways look. "I'm just thinking about if everyone really did die."

"Who gives a shit," Gretchen snapped, crunching extra hard on a pretzel, "if they didn't, that means they didn't bother coming for us. It means they fucking left us there to die."

"I'm with Gretch on this one," Julie admitted quietly. She'd spent a lot of time on her own thinking it over. "I don't like to think they're all dead, but...they knew where we were. We were there for almost a week waiting and nobody came for us."

"What if Daryl's still alive?"

"Then that means he didn't give as much of a shit about me as I thought," she mumbled bitterly, twisting the end of her braided hair around her wrist and tugging. "Which is bullshit. I did a lot for that fucking prick."

"We did a lot for all of them. Hell, they had your car, Zach," Gretchen said, propping up a pillow behind her head, "that's, like, the fucking cherry on top of the shit cake they baked us."

"It was a really nice car," Julie agreed. Zach let out a sound of disgust. "It's not like we could have taken it with us. This car gets better mileage anyway. And it's roomier."

"Yeah, but it could have been an option."

Zach simply shook his head and looked over to Julie. "So, just go through North Carolina and then into Virginia, right?"

"Yeah, seems fastest." Julie furrowed her brow and looked over at him. "Where exactly in Virginia is Gettysburg?"

"I thought it was in West Virginia," Gretchen replied, popping up. The three sat in silence for a moment.

"I miss Google Maps," Gretchen said finally, falling back on her pillow. Julie burst out laughing and Zach smiled, covering his mouth with one hand. They lapsed into silence and until they pulled over to switch drivers. Gretchen climbed into the driver seat and Julie stretched out in the back. Zach reached around his seat and squeezed her leg. "You doin' okay, Jules?"

"I don't know." And she didn't. "Are you?"

Zach shrugged. "Better than you. I mean Beth and me...let's be honest. We had nothing in common and if it weren't for all this going on, we never would have given each other the time of day. I could always see that, so, it was nice while it lasted and I'm sad that it just...we weren't gonna be together forever, but that doesn't mean I wanted it to end this way."

"So, you're okay, then?"

"I guess. I could be worse."

"We could all be worse," Gretchen said from the driver's seat and Julie scowled to herself. "Seriously, if you just jinxed us, I will beat your ass."

* * *

They were forty miles from the border and they'd only encounter one herd so far. They'd been extremely lucky. But they were out of water and their food supplies were non-existent. Julie had set up snares along the side of the road they'd stopped on for the night. They caught a single rabbit. It wasn't much, but it would have to do. Gretchen had helped her skin it and cook it while Zach tried to calculate how much farther they could travel by car with what little gas they had left.

Every station had been bled dry and they had less than a quarter. It was too dangerous for one of them to go out on their own and none of them were willing to leave the car unattended. They all sat on the car, facing different directions and keeping watch. "I got one," Zach called out suddenly. "Which James Bond would survive the longest?"

"That's easy," Julie muttered, "Daniel Craig."

Gretchen tossed a bone into the overgrowth on the side of the road. "It's not even a contest."

Julie fell back against the back windshield, propping her head up on one arm. "Are we fucking there yet," she asked no one in particular.

"How fucked are we if we're the last three people left alive," Zach joked as he whittled away at the end of a small stick. He'd taken to keeping his hands busy with anything and everything he could come up with. Julie and Gretchen were content just to lounge. It was clear Zach was still having problems coming to terms with the loss of Rick's group and Julie knew very well that it was beyond messed up that she wasn't more broken up by it, but it was her experience that everyone always left eventually. Somehow, they would be gone and she would be alone again. It was how it always went. It was better not to dwell on it and just keep going.

"No way our luck could be that shit," Gretchen snorted as she slid off the roof of the car and down the side. She glanced to Julie. "How long until we're in Virginia?"

"Barring complications, not long at all."

They all climbed in the car, Gretchen at the wheel, and started driving. Zach was asleep in the back and Julie had the map laid out. It was silent in the car, comfortable. But there was a split-second notice for Julie, when the hair on the back of her neck abruptly stood on end and she turned to find Gretchen was already looking at her with a similar expression. There was a loud 'boom' as the right front tire was blown out and the car fishtailed wildly and then flipped.

Julie's head was swimming and her vision blurred. Gretchen was breathing hard beside her. "What the fuck?"

Julie tried to turn in her seat, but everything ached and it was hard to see anything clearly, especially when hanging upside down. "Zach?"

There was no answer. "Zach? ZACH!"

Gretchen started fighting to turn around, too, ignoring the blood dripping from her forehead and nose-even as it dripped into her eyes. "C'mon, Zach, say something. You're scaring us!"

"Zach, please answer me, tell me you're okay," Julie begged as tried to undo her seatbelt with shaky hands you. "You gotta be okay."

Something crunched in the glass beside her head and Julie looked up just in time to catch the butt of a rifle as it careened toward her face.

Julie came to when someone smacked her across the face, but just barely. It was dark and her head throbbed along with the rest of her stiff body. Her hands were bound and she was strung up, toes barely meeting the ground.

"Come on, Sugar, let me see them eyes," someone coaxed in faux sweetness and calloused hands gripped her chin roughly. She could tell just by their voice that they were grinning from ear to ear. "Oh, man, we got us a good one. More than makes up for how much of a mess the other one is."

"We can still make some money off her." There was more than one. "Besides, she just needs her shoulder popped back in place."

"She's trouble. We should put her down."

"That's not our decision to make. Someone will take her and then she'll be their problem." Julie managed to force open her eyes again. Head hanging limply, she was able to make out camo fatigues, army regulation. These men were military. Or had been. Something cold slithered down into her stomach and began to writhe. Nothing good could come from this. Their surroundings swayed dangerously and someone let out an anguished cry. It sounded suspiciously like Gretchen. She tried to turn her head, but everything hurt too much. There was the sound of pounding on metal. "Watch it, will you? You're damaging the merchandise."

When they finally pulled to a stop, a black bag was pulled over her head and she was unhooked from the ceiling. She nearly sobbed in relief as the ache in her arms and shoulders was diminished, but was cut short when she was dragged down a steep incline and she noticed for the first time that she was barefoot. The hand gripping her arm tugged her roughly before throwing her down on the concrete floor.

"Hey, watch it! We're gonna get top dollar for her," someone complained. A voice too close for comfort sniped back. "Then you clean her the fuck up! I've been out on the road for over a week and you've just been sitting on your ass here."

Then, without warning, her head was forced under water and for the first time since awakening, Julie was aware enough to fight. But she was nowhere near strong enough. She tried to bat their hands away, but whoever it was ignored her and they pushed her back down and scrubbed their hands over her body. When they were done scrubbing at her, they yanked her back up by her bound hands and tugged her forward until they stopped and hung her from yet another ceiling.

"Her arms are pretty gnarly," someone said, referring to her scars.

"Yeah, but nobody messed her face up and that's where the money's at. You know how it is with the pretty ones. If she wasn't merch, I'd bust a nut all over her everyday for the rest of my life."

_No._

"I'll be back to get her when it's time. Keep the door locked."

There was the sound of metal hinges creaking and a door slamming shut. And she was alone again.

* * *

The bag was unceremoniously ripped from her head sometime later. There had been another car ride and she'd been dragged into another series of rooms. She squinted into the light, waiting for her eyes to adjust.

"Blonde, hazel eyes, five-foot-nine, early twenties, some scarring on the arms, back, and torso. She has all her teeth and is in peak physical condition. Bidding starts now."

Bidding? What the fuck? Julie let her eyes dart back and forth, but aside from the fluorescent light hanging over her head, she couldn't see anything. But she could hear men as they called out different numbers. She counted seven unique voices. Some sounded older, others as young as her.

The winning bid was five hundred and sixty. Someone came up behind her and yanked her back the way she came, not bothering to put the back over her head. Their was a small group of men, three in army fatigues and two dressed in suits. She studied the men in suits. One of them was busy filling a bin full of boxes of ammo. Ammo. They'd sold her for five-hundred and sixty rounds of ammo.

"Get the fuck off me," Julie's head jerked in the direction of the door way. They were brining in another woman and she was bucking wildly as she tried to squirm out of the man's grip, she managed to clip him in the side of the head with the base of her skull as she howled. "You sick fucks, I'll fucking kill you! Do you hear me? I'm going to rip your Goddamn guts out and tie you to a fucking tree with them."

"Gretchen," she breathed out silently as the woman thrashed hard enough that she managed to dislodge the cloth bag from her head. She pushed up from the ground using the balls of her feet and elbowed the man in the gut before stomping on his foot.

"Enough of this shit," one of the army men snapped and Julie recognized his voice. He was the one in charge. "Get her down on the floor!"

The soldier holding onto Gretchen kicked her legs out from under her and tossed her face first on the ground, pressing his knee into her back. The soldier posted near the door stepped forward and crouched at the brunette's head where he wrapped her hair around his fist and yanked hair, preventing her from moving. Gretchen was screaming incoherently and Julie watched, horrified as the soldier in charge hefted an ax up in his hands, stalked forward, and brought it down on Gretchen's pale neck and hacked away.

The two men in suits didn't so much as flinch. When the soldier was done and he handed the ax off to one the other soldiers. The suit who had been standing by while the other one counted out ammo stepped forward and looked over Gretchen's headless body as it bled out on the floor. "I'll give you an extra twenty if you throw in the body. Some of my pigs could do with a little fattening."

"You got yourself a deal."

The suit turned to the second one. "Pay the man and then load her up. I want to be home in time for dinner."

They didn't put another bag over her head, but they did tied her feet up and the one who was clearly in charge sat beside her with a revolver pointed at her chest.

"I suppose you want an explanation." Julie didn't bother responding, or even acknowledging him. She kept her eyes on the road, being sure to read and memorize every street sign they passed. She was going to get out of this and she was going to kill the man next to her. She had no doubt about that.

"You belong to me now, you do as I say, you do as I want and we won't have problems." She still refused to look at him. "It's actually very nice where we're going and I'm sure that once we're there, you'll thank me."

_I doubt that, fucker_, she thought darkly. She was going to destroy him in the worst way possible. Gretchen was dead and Zach along with her most likely. All because this greedy fuck was into human trafficking. And the sick part was, he looked perfectly respectable in every single way. From his salt and pepper hair which was slowly becoming whiter and whiter with age, to the crow's feet at the corners of his clear blue eyes and the laugh lines that were etched into his features. Clearly, he had once been a very good man. But not anymore. And all that mattered was what kind of man he was now.

Julie could see herself ramming her fingers into his eyesockets, popping his eyeballs like grapes, hacking his ears off and stuffing them down his throat before she cut out his tongue. Daydreaming about something like that shouldn't be so gratifying, but it was. Inflicting maximum pain and suffering felt like it should be half the goal now, not just survival.

They passed through the wrought iron gates of a large palatial community which was nestled in the center of what looked like a very high-class golf course. The grass was still well-maintained and there was a small group of men in golfing attire playing accompanied by three men who were much more shabbily dressed. A man in a red sweater beckoned one of them men forward, snapping his fingers when he wasn't fast enough. The man stumbled closer and spilled the drink he was brandishing all down the front of the red sweater.

The man in the red sweater didn't even pause before he raised his golf club over his head and began to beat the man to death viciously. Nobody else in the small party flinched or paid it any mind. Yes, she was going to kill them all.

* * *

Julie had never been in a house so big. Really, it was a mansion and everything was ornate and pristine. Instead or rags, she was given luxurious dresses. The sight of them caused ice to push through her veins. There was more dignity in wearing rags in this hell, she knew. But the man left her alone. She still didn't even know his name. But she was required to eat dinner with him every night. They sat across from one another in complete silence. He seemed to prefer that she remain silent, even seemed pleased by it. Regardless, Julie wasn't doing it to please him. She was biding her time, content with making herself seem subservient. It was important to seem wide-eyed and empty-headed, it would make him less suspicious. She doubted he'd bothered to ask anything about her and just assumed by her scars that something awful had happened to her and she was afraid it would happen again if she misbehaved.

Truthfully, she was worried something close to would happen again. In fact, she was counting on it. When the man did look at her, he tended to give her a thorough once over and while it was clinical, it was enough to make her skin crawl. That was never going to happen again.

As it were, she was sitting at the end of the long dining room table in her powder pink cardigan with her hair twisted up in some absurd updo while the pair of them ate in silence. They were having braised porkchops, which she refused to eat. Gretchen had been fed to his pigs. There was no way she was becoming a cannibal by proxy. She stuck to the vegetables. She refused to eat any of them meet aside from the venison they'd had once or twice over the course of the week. Once, there's been chicken. It would be a lie to say that the food wasn't heavenly, but the price of being well fed came at a price that was much to steep for her liking.

She finished off the spear of broccoli she was chewing on and fought the grimace that was trying to work its way onto her face. If Rick's group had just come to Woodbury like they'd planned, Gretchen would still be alive, Zach wouldn't be missing, and she wouldn't be some sick old bastard's plaything. The bitterness this train of thought created fueled the rage that had slowly been building since Woodbury. It was nearing an inferno as it burned her up from the inside. The only thing she could think of was to scorch the earth and salt it.

The man sitting at the far end of the table across from her looked up at her and set his silverware down. "This...community has been thriving since the beginning. Three years without a major incident and we've decided to celebrate. Next week, on the anniversary of its founding, we're holding a celebration. You will be accompanying me as my guest and date. There is a dress for you upstairs in your rooms. You will wear it. You smile, you will dance, you will enjoy yourself."

They fell into silence once more and when dinner was over, she retreated to her rooms, her decision made. She spent the next week as she had the two weeks before, studying the community and it's people in what others assumed disinterest. Every house was guarded by one man at each exit. They wore the similar fatigues to the men that had captured her, but it was clear that they were a separate group. These men also went out and scavenged for supplies, bringing back entire groups with them and forcing them into servitude. The supplies they brought back were either used inside the community or used to bid on people that the other group of army men occasionally brought in. Those people that were bid on, were status symbols. Most of them were women and the majority were brunettes, though there was one other blonde and three redheads that she'd seen. They all looked miserable and cowed, just as she pretended to be. There were also a couple of young men. Sometimes, they looked worse. She tried not to think about whether or not any of them had bought children.

There was one mansion that wasn't occupied, but was used by the guards as a store house for ammunitions and barracks. That was where she needed to go to get out. Luckily, the mansion she was being kept in was two houses down. The celebration was to be held in the center of the community, two blocks from the guard station. There was always a row of Jeeps parked outside along the curb while another one patrolled.

There was no point packing any supplies. There was too much risk in her stash being discovered and it would only slow her down. It would be best to steal a guard uniform once she got in.

The night of the celebration, she wore the stupid dress, which had full sleeves and covered her back-to hide her scars, of course-and smiled and danced, trying not to curl her lip in disgust every time someone congratulated the man she was with on how she had been such a wonderful purchase.

Unfortunately for him, the dress he had chosen, had pockets hidden deep within the folds of the midnight blue velvet it was made of and as she'd perused the lavish buffet, while she leisurely sipped from her champagne flute and weaved through the dinner tables, she deftly picked up one of the sterling silver steak knives and slipped it into her pocket without a single person noticing.

He escorted her home an hour later. Instead of bringing her to her rooms, he took her to his own, much as she'd assumed he would and she let him lower her onto his bed, let him climb on top of her and bury his face in her chest. And then, as he had lifted himself above her, She brought the knife up and drew it across his neck in one quick motion, severing his vocal chords. Just as shock bloomed over his face and he reached up to clutch his slashed flesh, the brought the knife up into his gut.

She shoved his gurgling body off of her and stood from the bed. She grabbed his Leg and slice at the back of his feet, severing his Achilles tendon. Using the red and gold bedspread, she wiped as much blood as possible from her body and then checked herself over in a mirror hanging on the wall. The man was still gurgling, one arm outstretched as he tried to call for help. Julie looked at him through the reflection in the mirror. She would have put him out of his misery already, but the longer he took to bleed out, the more time she had before he turned and she needed the distraction of walkers to mask her escape. She spared him a look as she went for the door. "Don't worry. You won't be dead for long."

She threw the door open and stalked down the hall toward the staircase. Her heels clacked noisily on the wood flooring and she didn't bother to disguise it. One of the servants-indentured, to be exact-paused at the landing as he saw her. Julie struck at him in a wide arc, blood spraying as she went and she watched as he crumpled to the floor. It was probably wrong, the flare of satisfaction she felt as she watched him drown in a pool of his own blood, but it just felt so good, knowing she was one step closer to complete freedom. She leant against the banister as she toed off her heels and set them down by the back door when she reached it.

She slit the neck of the guard watching the back door and slipped out, bending down to retrieve her shoes as she went. The heels weren't practical, but that was all she had been afforded since arriving. She had no reason to worry about running into guards as she crept through the neighboring yard; everyone was still celebrating and all security had been diverted to the party. Still, she kept to the shadows.

The guardhouse was going to be tricky. There would still be heavy security. But it would still be easy slipping in the back door. A blitz attack, maybe, even though it was riskier than she liked. Hearing voices, she edge toward the side of the house. Someone had left a window cracked and she could hear a television in another room loudly as it played some over the top action movie at full volume. "Grab me a beer, will ya," someone asked. Julie stood on tip toe and looked from side to side. The room was completely empty save for several bunk beds and a few chests of drawers.

Putting all her weight on the balls of her feet, she sprang up into the air and gripped the window sill, using one hand and forearm to secure her weight while she used her other hand to slowly push the window further up and then she pulled herself up and through the window, landing on her feet as quietly as she could. She rushed to the door and shut it quickly, turning the knob to keep it from shutting to loudly.

Her main concern was getting to the armory. Pressing her ear against the door she listened. There were four separate voices. At the very least, she would be dealing with four armed and dangerous men. She opened the door a crack and immediately ducked down. The doorway into the room the men were in was open and while they had their backs to her, she didn't want them catching her. Julie slid the door open slowly, eye catching on the stairway to her left. Ammunitions would be upstairs, she'd bet her life on it.

"You can do this," she whispered to herself as she slid out of the room on her knees and slipped across the floor and pressed herself against the wall, jumping slightly when one of them men yelled out loud and screamed. They were watching "Die Hard". Jumping to her feet, she took the stairs two at a time and ground to a halt at the landing, pressing herself up against the wall again, brandishing her steak knife. She hadn't found a single weapon in the downstairs barrack. It was the only set back she had so far.

She waited, trying to filter out the noise coming from downstairs, hoping to pick up any sounds from the floor she was on, but nothing came.

"You gotta be shitting me," she whispered, before she crept forward and cautiously began opening doors on either side of the hall. Julie's body sagged in relief on the third try. The room was packed full with nothing short of an arsenal. Not wasting any time, Julie grabbed a large military standard issue rucksack and began filling it with ammo and several handguns. She rummaged around several boxes and nearly squealed when she found a small cache of silencers. She attached one to one of her pilfered Glocks and shoved it into the pocket of her dress for safekeeping while she continued to stock up.

When she opened the last container, she could feel her lips begin to twitch at the sight that greeted her. This would make things so much easier. She picked up one of the grenades and palmed it. _Every party needs party favors_. She could hear Merle's raucous laughter in her head and her shoulders shook with the force it took to keep her own laughter from bursting out.

Maybe she was well and truly insane. It was no doubt the last few weeks had pushed her well past her limit. And maybe that was okay since it seemed as though one had to be a little insane in order to do all the things she was doing. If Rick had been in her position, he would have waited and tried to figure out how to save the other people who'd been trapped with her, he'd see the community for the potential it had to be better and want to build on that. Julie could see that, but she wanted to burn it to the fucking ground. She could see it in the faces of the people who'd been trapped that to them, a life behind these walls was better than a life out on their own. They were cattle and she didn't feel bad about being the one to slaughter them for it. She probably should, but this world was made for feeling soft and trying to do the right thing. She knew that now. Daryl's face flashed in her mind's eye and her resolve hardened. She would never rely on another person again. Never again.

She stuffed as many grenades into the sack as possible (to hell with safety regulations when regarding explosions) and grabbed the set of keys to the Jeep outside, which were conveniently hanging next top the door. She crept back down the stairs and into the room she came in through. She exited through the same window and then doubled back toward the mansion the party was being held at. All the guards were inside, save for one out front guarding all the Jeeps that were parked in front.

She pulled the Glock from her pocket and approached from behind. Four shots to the chest. She pulled the Bowie knife from her rucksack and then slashed every single tire on all three vehicles. Julie entered through the front door and fired off a series of shots at each guard; all into the chest. Then she tossed a grenade up the flight of stairs near the front entrance and hauled ass as fast as she could out of the house and back the way she came toward the guard house.

The explosion rocked the entire community and Julie hid behind a large clump bushes next to one of the house as she watched every single guard race toward the scene. The guard house was completely empty when she returned. She pulled the keys from her other pocket. They were marked "81A". She walked along the row of vehicles, slashing the tires of the ones that were marked differently and then tossed her bag into the passenger seat of the one that had "81A" stenciled on the side. She pulled a grenade from the rucksack, yanked the pin, and then hurled it through an upstairs window in the guard house.

She was almost out. Almost free. Julie sighed in relief and climbed into the Jeep, started it up and pulled out, driving as fast as she could. She was going to have to ram the gate.

"Shit," she cursed as a Jeep careened toward her from the entrance and blindly reached for the sack, grabbing the first grenade she could. They were already shooting at her, a spray of bullets imbedded in the grill and the door of her Jeep. Thee managed to hit her windshield and crack it. That pissed her off. How the hell was she supposed to see through that shit? She yanked the pin from the grenade using her teeth and hurled it at the oncoming Jeep. "Fuck you!"

The grenade clipped the driver in the head and bounced down into the floorboards in the back. The soldier in the passenger seat scrambled to grab it as the driver swerved off the road and slammed into a rather majestic looking maple tree. They managed to toss the grenade out of the Jeep just before detonation and the passenger screamed as shrapnel tore through them.

She pushed through the front gates at breakneck speed, wrenching her own, and she groaned at the pain, but didn't slow down. She was free. She drove for over until dawn and stopped as the road she was on intersected with another. She shut off the Jeep and just sat for a few minutes, keys clutched in her hand as she finally let the past twenty-four hours sink in. She'd just murdered an entire community of people. There had been at least sixty people there; maybe more. And she was okay with it. Happy about it even. Even now, she was smiling, telling herself they deserved it. They'd fucked her over and they deserved it. She was disappointed she hadn't been able to stick around and see the aftermath.

Falling back in her seat, she cracked her neck and looked down the road. It was time to pick a direction. a distinct feeling of deja vu came over her and she noted vaguely that her surroundings and the road resembled the same one from her dream. She snorted at herself in disbelief for entertaining such a stupid thought. "Don't bullshit yourself."

Pointing in each direction, back and forth, she hummed to herself. "Eenie, meenie, miney, mo."

Settling on the left at the end of the rhyme, she clicked her tongue. "It." She turned the engine over and put the Jeep in gear. "North it is."

Maybe if she was lucky, she could still find her way to Gettysburg. She smiled to herself, trying to imagine how it would have been if she, Zach, and Gretchen had actually made it there. Would it be infested with Roamers? Would there be a camp of survivors living there? Did it even matter anymore? What if she was one of the last people who would even know what Gettysburg was?

She sniffed to herself and wished desperately that Zach was there. If he had been, at least she would be smile. He could make her smile no matter what. If Daryl had been there, he probably either would have told her to stop feeling sorry for herself or held her hand for a moment. And Gretchen. All she could think about when she reminded herself of the brunette was her headless corpse, pool of blood coagulating beneath it.

Julie rubbed at her tired eyes and hoped foolishly to herself that Zach had gotten away, that he was safe. Then she thought of Daryl and hoped some more.

* * *

Julie stopped at the first sign of civilization she came across and used the KA-BAR knife to cut the seams on the shoulders on her dress and cut some of the tulle skirt out from under the velvet. She discarded the scraps in a dumpster on the side of the station and then checked the pumps over before tapping on the glass storefront with the tip of her knife. "Anybody home?"

A greyish, rotted face careened into the other side of the glass and hiss at her as it snapped its teeth into the clear barrier to bite her. She pressed the tip of her knife to the glass again, right over where the snarling creature's nose would have been had it not rotted off. "You look like you could use some company. So-" she looked down at the name patch on his coveralls scrunched up her nose, "-Hank, you think you can help a lady out and give her some directions? No? Well, that is a shame."

She busted open the front door and pushed the knife through the top of his skull. All she found in the store was a single, solitary Kit-Kat and a half drained bottle of water behind the counter. She snatched them up and shoved half the candy bar in her mouth as once, and then paused in the door way as she caught sight of several unopened packs of bubblegum. Shrugging to herself, she grabbed a handful, and stepped over Hank and back out into the parking lot. Popping a piece of gum in her mouth and starting up the Jeep, she waved over her shoulder at the store front. "Bye, Hank, it was nice meeting you."

Two hours later, Jeep, almost out of gas, Julie drove it off the road and parked it well past the tree line, covering it in branches and then trekked back up onto the road where she pulled off her heels and tucked them into the rucksack and started walking. She walked for hours, until her feet were sore and it was well after dusk and she couldn't stand it any longer. But she kept walking. She had to.

When a minor herd of walkers appeared, shambling down the road in her direction, she bit out a string of curses and ducked down into the woods, continuing on her path, and careful to keep from disturbing any of the vegetation around her. All it would take is the crunch of leaves or snapping of a twig carrying out into the night to alert them to her and she would be fucked.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the sign for a rest stop up two miles ahead. She'd been keeping an eye out for one. It was deserted when she reached it and she didn't bother checking it over when she arrived, she merely dragged one of the wooden picnic tables over to the edge of the building and climbed on top of it. It was after dark and the only safe place to sleep was up. She tossed her rucksack up onto the roof and rocked back on her heels, bending her knees in preparation to jump when someone grabbed her from behind and clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Hello, Princess, we've been looking all over for you," a deep voice purred in her ear and her eyes widened in recognition. That was the soldier in charge of the auctions that had taken her and Gretchen. That had hacked Gretchen's head off with a dull ax. He abruptly turned her around in his arms and shoved her off the table and onto the ground. She land face first in the dirt and grass and looked up to watch as his silhouette step down off the table after her.

"That fucking stunt you pulled back at Mountaincrest cost us a lot of ammo and supplies," he snapped at her. "We had it good. Kept what we wanted, sold what we didn't wanted or what would make us the most profit-just like we did with you-and we could do whatever the fuck we wanted, to whoever we wanted, whenever we wanted. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement, y'know?" He suddenly bent down and hauled her up by her hair, his face a mere centimeter from hers. "You even blew up there fucking armory you stupid cunt! You fucked us! You fucking fucked us."

He pulled at her hair extra hard as he dragged her out into the gravel parking lot and tossed her down yet again. She grunted on impacted and coughed as the dust swirled around her and drift off into the chilled night air. Ice shot through her veins as a series of headlights clicked on one after the other and several men in fatigues stepped out in to form a small semi-circle from behind her.

"So, here's how it's going to go," he told her, stepping toward her and she took in his appearance for the first time. Close cropped black hair, eyes so brown they were black, and a face that looked as though it had never smiled once in all its existence. She had the distinct impression she wasn't getting out of this alive. Or even maimed. He was right in front of her now and she had to lift herself up on the palms of her hands to stare up at him. "Since, you fucked us over that badly, destroyed any chances of us recouping our losses, and pretty much filled up our territory with even more deadheads with that little fireworks display of yours, I think it's only fair that you pay us back."

He circled her slowly, "Each and everyone of us is going to fuck the holy hell out of you until you're a bloody mess. Then, I'm going to cut your head of just like I did to that bitch friend of yours, and mount it on my truck like a fucking hood ornament. So," he stepped up to her and she fell back and crawled backwards on the gravel to get away from him. "Pike, Benitez, hold her down."

There were hands on her and she was pinned and there was laughter just like before. But Julie felt no fear this time. She remembered Gretchen. She remembered her words and all she felt was anger. Julie tried to pull her arms free by lunging forward and the men holding her down laughed. "Love a girl with fight in her," one of them chuckled into her ear and she smashed the side of her head into hit face. Stars danced across her vision and became more vivid when he backhanded her in retaliation.

"I get it," he sneered down at her condescendingly as he slowly unbuckled his belt, "you're nervous, you're scared, it's a lot to take in. To come to terms with, but it's going to happen and you need to accept it." He fell to his knees in front of her and then snapped his fingers as if in afterthought. "Maybe we need some music to put you in the mood? Someone put some music on! Something romantic!"

They were all laughing loudly, hooting and whistling and cheering and some were even clapping and the tear that threatened to build up in her dry eyes receded as she focused in the music. Peter Cetera's "Glory of Love"?

"You motherfucking, cocksucking, shit-eating, bitch-faced, bunch of pussies," she screamed, gratified when he reeled back from her in surprise. "You think Peter Cetera's gonna put me in the mood for your micro-dick?!"

"Watch your mouth," he roared, leaning down on her and she took the opportunity lunge up at him again, and bit down hard until she tasted blood. Even then, she didn't stop, even as he screamed in horror and shoved at her shoulders and the two men holding her, turned into three and they were trying hard to pull her off of him. Finally, they were separated, when the chunk of flesh she'd managed to clamp onto tore off into her mouth and she spat it out at him, laughing victoriously when she realized it had been his nose.

"Fuck this," one of the men snapped and pulled out a bowie knife, "hold her down. Time to repay the favor."

The sound of several guns cocking and a couple dozen people whistling silenced them. Even Julie stopped struggling. and tried to look over her shoulder to see what was happening. "Is this an open house party or invite only?"

Whoever it was sounded sinisterly jovial. Judging by the sound of their boots scuffling along the gravel, they practically swaggered over and Julie watched as the shadow they cast due to the lit headlights, slithered over the men like a snake. "I'm assuming I'm invited to this shit party since you're in my fucking territory without my fucking permission. I mean, not inviting me...that would just be _fucking **rude**_."

He was on her right side now, one hand tucked into the pocket of his pants, brandishing a baseball bat wrapped up in barbed wire, a smile on his face, and sporting a black leather jacket like a greaser from a 50's horror movie about aliens from outer space or something. He pointed the bat at the men crowded around her and nudged the closest one in the shoulder roughly. "How about, you inconsiderate fucking fucks, let the lady go and get in line with the rest of your prick friends?"

They dropped her immediately and she winced as the gravel bit into her bare arms and she twisted halfway around to push herself up on her hands. The man with the bat barely spared her a glance as he followed them and she followed his line of sight to where the men had all been forced down onto their knees and stripped of their weapons. Their leader was still lying in the gravel, clutching the gaping wound in the middle of his face, and sobbing.

"You too, Pinocchio. Get your bitch-ass up and fall in line," he urged, an edge to his voice. The wounded soldier pulled himself into the line on his hands and knees, moaning as he went.

The man with the bat sauntered back and forth in front of the line of men, grinning widely. He tipped his bat over his shoulder towards the cars. "Peter Cetera. Not my first choice, for fucking, but to each his own. I'd have gone with Richard Marx personally if we're going with the power ballads.

"Now, my name is Negan. And this wonderful little slice of Virginia that you fucks have so cavalierly decided to trample through belongs to me. And all the shit in it, belongs to me. It is_ mine_. And I gotta say boys," he chuckled, rubbing at his salt and pepper goatee, "I'm a little pissed off that you thought it was okay to come to my house and just start taking my shit. Are you the same fucks that have been offing my runners down here? Yeah, I think you are. Oh, I have been looking forward to this fucking night for a fucking long time."

He crouched down in front of the soldier to the right of the one in charge, who was still an inconsolable mess. "Now, normally, I'd make you give me your shit, tell you you belong to me, and make you bring me more shit. That's the system and how it works and it works well and everyone goes about their business and I don't have to get pissed and come out here and fucking deal with shit like this. But you've killed off three different groups that I have out here and cost me a lot of shit that I wanted. That alone, is really un-fucking-cool." He paused and cocked his head to the side as the song on the car stereo switched to the familiar strains of Juice Newton's "Angel of the Morning" and his grin widened in amusement. "Surprisingly, this is better. I'd fuck to this. Simon," he hollered loudly, "grab that CD for me."

He stood up and his expression darkened and he pointed his bat behind him and right at Julie. "But then, I catch you doing this shit?" Julie finally pulled herself up on unsteady feet, unsure of just what was happening. It was, in all fairness, a lot to comprehend. She brushed some of the dust and dirt from the skirt of her dress and noted that the fabric at the hem was tattered and caked with mud, which made her frown. It had been a really nice dress.

"You okay, Sweetheart," baseball bat Greaser-_Negan_-asked, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. She nodded mutely and he gestured for her to come toward him as he continued to stare down at the men cowering before him. "Now, I want you to apologize and I want you to really fucking mean it or it's going to make this whole thing even more drawn out than it already has to be. And I'm not in the best of moods since I had to come all the fucking way out here myself to deal with you shits. I mean, you killed a lot of nice people who gave me a lot of nice shit. So, let's hear it."

"I'm sorry," he said through clenched teeth, brown eyes glaring daggers at the pair standing over him. Negan threw his head back and laughed. "Well, that was bullshit. Let's try it with some fucking sincerity this time, if you fucking please."

"Fuck you," the man spat, "I'm not apologizing to that stupid cunt!" Negan whistled as the man continued to snarl incoherently. Negan even laughed loudly, but Julie could tell, underneath the thin layer of mirth, he was furious at having been defied. The man whirled on her. "You fucking whore. We should have fucking bent you over when we had the chance! Fucked you up worse than they did at Mountaincrest! First chance I get, I'm gonna ram my knife so far up your tore up-"

Somehow, his words ignited the spark that was needed to unleash the fury within her. It had been kept at bay by starvation and exhaustion, but the amount of adrenaline coursing through her veins now was the catalyst that brought it to life. Without even considering the consequences, Julie snatched the bat out of the hand of the man standing next to her and brought it down on the ranting soldier's head with a resounding crack, letting out a long drawn out howl of rage as she did so, being sure to bring the bat down over and over again until she was beating pinkish-red pulp into the gravel. Without pause, she swung to the left, letting the bat crash into the side of the man whose nose she bitten off and it obliterated the right side of his face. And it felt good-finally having someone one to release all her pent up anger on. Maybe she would feel guilty when it was over, maybe she wouldn't. Right now, she didn't care. All she cared about was freeing the anger that had been bottled up for too long. And she realized somewhere in the back of her rage-filled mind that the way she was screaming as she continued to beat in their heads-that she was beating someone's head in at all-was definitely insane. But it just felt _so good_.

Once he, too, was a caved in puddle of mush, she drew back a step and turned to look at the man who was frozen beside her in wide-eyed shock. It was eerily silent save for the music drifting in around them. Suddenly very self-conscious, Julie cleared her throat and pushed her hair over her shoulder, before handing the bat back to the man standing before her. "Thank you," she managed demurely as she smoothed down the front her dress and focused her eyes back on the line of men who were still kneeling before them. Most of them were crying now. The man, Negan, was staring down at his bat-more specifically, at the blood and bits of brain matter coating the barbed wiring-and Julie stubbornly refused to look at him. It was easier to look at the crying men. They were far less intimidating. And she was also very embarrassed at her outburst.

"_Ho-ly. Fucking. **Shit**_," Negan breathed out beside her, garnering her attention once again and she blushed, still embarrassed and very confused as to why he was looking at her like that. He turned his body toward her fully, eyes twinkling with laughter and he grinned what had to be the most charming grin she'd ever had tossed her way as he swung his bat up to rest on his shoulder. "I think I'm in fucking love."

* * *

**To be continued?...**


End file.
